A Family Divided
by IzzyDelta
Summary: Set in an alternative universe where Irene Adler and Jim Moriarty are twin siblings and younger than Mycroft but older than Sherlock. Their parents are separated and each have taken two of their children. However, the twins' lives aren't going to be as rosy as it should be.
1. Prologue

**A Family Divided**

Prologue

_March 1979_

A man paces down a short length of a hospital corridor. He pauses looking into one of the windows. He sighs and resumes his pacing. A muffled scream sounds from the room the man had paused by. He flinches but doesn't stop his pacing. He glances at the window of the now quiet room. 'Come on.' He mutters. He keeps pacing as the seconds turn into minutes and the minutes turn into an hour. Nurses, midwives and other nervous husbands walk past at various intervals. One of these men stops and watches him.

'First time father?' the first man stops his pacing and looks at the newcomer. He nods. 'The first child is always the most nerve wracking.'

'You expecting too?'

'My third.'

'Do you want a boy or girl?'

'Got two girls. I hope to even out the numbers. You?'

'I don't know. My wife would love a daughter, I wouldn't mind a son.' The newcomer laughs.

'Only one of you will get the choice you desire.' The two men laugh. A midwife exits the room where the scream originated.

'Mr Siger Holmes?' the two men look over at her.

'Yes?' The first replies hesitantly.

'You may go in now. Your wife needs you.' Siger Holmes and the other man look at each other.

'Go on. She needs you.'

'You now have the advantage over me.'

'Tennant. Christopher Tennant.'

'Thanks for the distraction.' Siger Holmes turns and walks towards the midwife.

'Good talking to you Mr Holmes.'

'And to you Mr Tennant.' Siger replies over his shoulder. He follows the woman into his wife's room.

He walks over to the bed and looks down at his wife holding his first-born child. He smiles at the sight of the two of them. His wife looks up at Siger. 'Do you want to hold him?' Siger nods speechless. He carefully takes the bundle of baby and blankets in his arms and he gently rocks the baby. Cradling the child in the crook of one arm he uses the other two gently stroke the baby's cheek.

'Violet what are we going to call him?'

'I thought Mycroft Siger Holmes would be perfect for him.' Siger's smile grows broader.

'Welcome to the family Mycroft Siger Holmes.' the baby stirs and his little fists work free of the blanket. One of them grabs hold of Siger's finger and holds on. Siger looks up at Violet. 'He is perfect.'

_August 1983_

Four year-old Mycroft and his father wait in the same corridor that Siger waited in nearly four years previously. Mycroft sits on a chair watching his father pace in the corridor. Siger looks up from his pacing and spots his son watching him. 'You okay Myc?' Mycroft nods and looks down the length of the corridor. Siger resumes his pacing.

'Daddy?' Siger stops and takes a seat next to his son. Mycroft looks at his feet before continuing 'Were you like this when I was born?' Siger smiles at his son.

'You really have the family traits don't you.' Siger ruffles his son's hair. 'And yes I was, probably even more so.' Mycroft tidies his hair after his father has removed his hand. Siger stands and starts pacing again. Mycroft shoves his hands under his legs and swings his feet.

'Daddy?'

'Yes Mycroft?'

'What will you name the babies?' Siger squats in front of his son.

'Mummy and I thought you might like to chose the names.' Mycroft smiles a smile that could light up the entire hospital. 'Let me know when you've thought of one.'

'Four.' Siger raises his eyebrows. 'Two boy names and two girl names.' Siger smiles and stands. He steps back and leans against the wall to watch his son think. Siger watches as the expressions change on Mycroft's face as he considers all the names he can think of. As Mycroft's expression settles Siger leans forward.

'Well?'

'If they're boys, James Anthony and Victor Rupert. If they're girls Irene Violet and Julia May.'

'What if you have a new brother and sister?'

'James Anthony and Irene Violet.' Further down the corridor a door opens. Mycroft and Siger and a midwife gestures for them to enter the room. Mycroft hops off his chair and takes the hand offered by his father. Together they enter the room and approach the end of the bed where the incubator is situated. Siger lifts Mycroft to look in at his new brother and sister.

'Well Mycroft, what are we calling your new siblings.' Violet's voice floats down the bed towards the four year-old. 'You have a brother and a sister.'

'James Anthony, Irene Violet.'

'Would you like to hold one of them?' Mycroft nods and his fathers carries him to the side of Violet's bed and seats him of the edge. Siger moves back to the incubator and picks up one of the bundles of blanket and baby.

'Mycroft Siger Holmes, meet you new sister Irene Violet Holmes.' Siger places the bundle into Mycroft's arms. Mycroft smiles and baby Irene opens her eyes. The brother and sister look at each other and Irene smiles and gurgles making Mycroft giggle. A crying sound emits from the incubator. Siger picks up baby James and rocks him to soothe the baby. Mycroft giggles again watching his father and brother.

'What is it Croft?'

'James is jealous.'

_January 1986_

Three children sit in the same corridor as three years previously and intently watch a door. The girl in the middle whispers to her brothers 'How long will it be now?'

'I don't know Rene.' Her older brother replies.

'But Myc, you know everything.' The younger boy whines.

'No I don't Jim. I have a lot to learn. Mummy and Daddy know much more than me.'

'Will it be a boy or girl Myc?' Irene asks.

'We'll find out soon enough.'

'What do you want it to be Myc?'

'I don't know Jim. I wouldn't mind another brother or sister.'

'I want a sister.' Irene states categorically. 'I have two brothers so I want a sister.' Jim smiles manically.

'I want a brother.'

'I just want another healthy sibling.' Mycroft sighs as the twins both slip off their seats and start squabbling in the middle the corridor. He watches them for a very short while before slipping off his seat and stepping between his two siblings. A scream sounds from nearby making the twins freeze and grab their older brother.

'What was that?' stutters Irene. Mycroft removes her hands from his leg and lifts her back on her seat.

'Nothing to worry about.' Mycroft disentangles himself from his little brother as well and also lifts him back on to his seat. 'It won't harm us.' Mycroft climbs back on to his seat between them. He puts his arms around the two of them and cuddles them close to him. The three of them hear footsteps approach them down the corridor. They look up and

'Daddy!' Irene squeals. She slips off her seat again and runs to him. He scoops her into his arms and spins her around. Jim watches for a couple of minutes before also running to his father. He too is scooped up and the two of them are sat on their father's hips holding hands around his neck. Siger Holmes carries them back down the corridor towards Mycroft.

'How have they been Myc?'

'Not as bad as normal.' Siger sets the twins back on the floor and removes their arms from his neck. He gathers up his eldest into a hug.

'Sorry it took me so long to get here.'

'It's okay Daddy. You're here now.'

'Which room?' Mycroft points to the door they had been watching. Siger stands and strides over to the door. He glances back at his three children. 'Wait there.' He pushed door open and walks into the room. Minutes later he returns to the corridor and beckons to the children. They walk down the corridor Jim and Irene slip their hands into Mycroft's and they follow their father into the room. Siger puts his finger to his lips before kneeling down and whispering. 'You have to be really quiet. Mummy's asleep and the baby isn't very well. I will lift each of you up so you can see your baby brother.' Mycroft, Jim and Irene nod. Siger lifts each one up and they look into the incubator. After Siger had set Irene back on the floor. He leads them back out into the corridor.

'What's his name?' Mycroft asks.

'Sherlock. Sherlock Joseph Holmes.' Mycroft frowns at the expression on his father's face.

'What's wrong with him Daddy?'

'He was born too early Rene.'

'Will he die?'

'No Jimmy, he should be strong enough to pull through.' Mycroft ignores the rest of the questions asked by the twins. He walks down the corridor to the chairs. He climbs up and sits there thinking.


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

_July 1986_

Mycroft walks down the stairs in the Holmes family home. As he reaches the bottom he hears loud voices coming from the kitchen. He sits down on the bottom step and listens to his parents arguing. He leans his head on the bannisters before hearing two pairs of footsteps at the top of the stairs. 'Myc?' He stands and turns to look up at the twins. 'What's going on?' Jim asks nervously. Mycroft smiles nervously and climbs the stairs. He takes the twins' hands and leads them back to their bedroom. As they pass one door the three of them hear six-month-old child start crying. Mycroft lets go of their hands and pushes them towards their room. He pushes open the door and enters the master bedroom. He lowers a wall of Sherlock's crib and picks the baby up. As Mycroft carries the baby out of the room and towards the twin's room. He gently wipes the tears from Sherlock's cheeks as opens the door. He set Sherlock on the floor and kneels down himself. Irene takes out a set of building blocks and gives them to her baby brother. Mycroft helps Sherlock play with the block. Jim and Irene play with other toys from their toy box.

Half an hour later, the door to the twin's bedroom opens and Violet Holmes stands framed in the doorway. She smiles at the sight of her four children playing quietly on the floor. 'Mycroft, thank you for soothing Sherlock.'

'It's okay Mummy, I don't like it when my siblings cry.' She steps forward and picks up her youngest and extends her hand to her daughter. 'I'm sure all four of you are starving.' Irene scrambles up and grabs her mother's hand. Jim stands up and attempts to pull his big brother up. Mycroft giggles as Jim tries again and again. 'Mycroft. Stop being awkward.'

'Sorry Mummy, Jimmy.' He lets Jim pull him to his feet and lead him to the kitchen.

An hour later all four children are sitting around the table and have finished eating their breakfast. Violet picks her youngest out of his high chair and set him down on a play mat in the corner of the kitchen. Mycroft starts to get down from the table. Violet stops him. 'Croft, I need you to stay at the table sweetheart.' Mycroft nods bemused but stays in his seat. Violet clears the breakfast items from the table before sitting down and looking at her three older children.

'Mummy, is this about your row with Daddy?' Mycroft asks apprehensively. Violet looks intensely at her eldest before sighing heavily.

'Yes. Mycroft it is.' She pauses 'What did you hear?'

'Only that you think that Daddy is lying to you. I didn't hear much.'

'Mycroft, Irene, James you need to listen very carefully to me.' All three of the children watch her. She looks down to the table before looking at her children. 'Daddy and I… our relationship has become very strained. We aren't getting along very well anymore.'

'Is Daddy leaving us?' Jim asks. Violet smiles sadly.

'Mummy?' Irene stares at her mother with tears starting to run down her face.

'Yes James, Daddy is leaving me.'

'Why Mummy?'

'What do you mean Mycroft?'

'Why is he leaving you not us?'

'He wants to take you all with him.'

'He wants to take us away from you?' Violet nods sadly. 'Is that what the row was about?'

'Yes Mycroft.'

'What are you going to do Mummy?'

'We managed to come to an agreement.' Mycroft and Jim glance at each other. Irene just stares at her mother with tears streaming down her cheeks. Jim puts his arm around his twin and cuddles her.

'Two of us are going with Daddy and two are staying with you.' Jim states bluntly. Violent flinches at the words.

'Who's going with who?' Mycroft tentatively asks.

'That is up to you three.' Violet look at each of her three children sat around the table before glancing at Sherlock playing on the floor unaware of the tension in his siblings and mother. Mycroft follows her gaze towards his baby brother. He looks at Sherlock before looking back at his twin siblings. He swallows before slipping off his chair and moving across the kitchen to kneel next to Sherlock. He looks back at Jim and Irene.

'I'll stay with Sherlock. It's not fair to split you two up.' Irene climbs down off her chair and runs to Mycroft and clings to him.

'No. I want to stay with you Myc.'

'And me.' Jim demands from his seat. He crosses his arms and frowns at his three siblings. Mycroft looks at his mother.

'Mummy, can I take Sherlock to the sitting room? I don't want him to become distressed.'

'Put him in his swing and put his favourite music on.' Mycroft nods, releases his leg from Irene's grip. He picks up Sherlock and carries him out of the kitchen. 'Mycroft stay with him for ten minutes.' Mycroft nods and closes the door behind him. Violet holds her hands out to her three-year-old daughter. Irene walks over to her mother who picks her up and settles her on her lap. 'Listen you two. What your big brother says is sensible. Twins have a bond that is different from any other bonds siblings have. You have the option to stay together. Mycroft loves both of you dearly and it will break his heart to lose the pair of you. The two of you would really struggle if one of you stays with while the other goes with your father.' She looks down at Irene. 'Rene, if you really had to choose only one brother to stay with you would you choose?'

'Jim.' Irene answers promptly.

'Jim?'

'Rene.' The twins chew their lips. Jim looks at Irene who looks back at him. Simultaneously, they nod. 'Me and Rene will go with Daddy. Sherlock still needs you Mummy.' Jim slips down from his chair and goes to hug his mother.

'Jimmy, go and get your big brother.' Jim leaves the kitchen and returns moments later with his big brother in tow.

'What's been decided Mummy?' Mycroft asks.

'Rene and Jim have decided to go with your father.'

'When are they going?' Violet sighs as a tear slips down her cheek. 'Mummy?'

'The weekend.'

'_This weekend_?' the three of them chorused.

'But that's in three days time.' Mycroft states.

'I know. He wanted to take you today or as soon as we had decided who was going.'

_Three days later_

Mycroft and his mother stand on the front porch of their house as a car pulls out of their drive. Violet holds the baby Sherlock in her arms. Tears stream down her cheeks as she clutches Sherlock in one arm and Mycroft to her leg in the other. Mycroft waves to his younger brother and sister. 'Good bye brother, sister.' He mutters. He silently vows that one day he will find his brother and sister.

In the back of the car Irene and Jim stare out of the back and side windows waving goodbye to their brothers and mother. Tears stream down their cheeks. When the two of them couldn't see Mycroft, Sherlock or Violet any more they twist in their seat to face forward and wipe the tears from their cheeks. They hold hands and subconsciously vow never to be apart from each other and to one day find their brothers.


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

_May 1988_

Irene walks along the hall of the home she and Jim moved to after leaving their mother. She cautiously approaches the door at the end of the hall. She knocks on the door and waits. After a few moments of silence she pushes the door open expecting her father to shout at her for disturbing him. 'Daddy?' she steps into the office. She looks her father's desk and sees him slumped over. She steps over piles of papers on the carpet to approach him. She shakes his to try and wake him up. 'Daddy? We're hungry. It's dinnertime, Daddy!' she shakes him harder. He slips off his chair and falls to the floor on the opposite side of the chair to Irene. She walks around the chair and shakes her father again. 'Daddy! Wake up Daddy.' She starts to cry. 'Jimmy!' Jim runs to the door of the office. He tries to shakes his father awake.

'Daddy. Wake up. I want food.' Jim demands of his father. He stops shaking his father and stands up. He holds his hand out to his twin sister. He leads her out of the office and takes her to the sitting room just down the hall closing the door of the office behind them. He looks for the phone and calls 999. 'Hello?' Pause. 'I think my Daddy is dead.' A longer pause, '27 Queens Road, Guildford.' A short pause, 'No, it's only me and my sister. We're nearly 6.' Pause, 'Yes I can open the door. My name is James and I'll be waiting by front door.' Jim puts the phone down and walks out of the sitting room. Irene stands to follow him. He stops her. 'Stay here Rene. Watch the TV.'

As Jim opens the front door a police car pulls up outside the front gate. A police officer gets out of the door next to the curb. He opens the gate and spots Jim at the door. 'Are you James?' Jim nods. 'How are you?' Jim shrugs. 'Can you show me where your father's body is?' Jim looks back at the car behind which an ambulance has pulled up behind the patrol car.

'Can we wait for the doctor?' The police officer smiles at Jim.

'Of course.' He beckons to the other officer and paramedics. 'You're very calm James.'

'I have to be strong for my sister.'

'What's her name?'

'She's Irene Violet Holmes. I'm James Anthony Holmes. Everyone calls me Jim.'

'Officer Trevors will stay with your sister. Where is she?'

'She's in the sitting room.' Jim looks at the four adults watching him on the front path he turns and walks into the house leading them to the study. He points to the door of the sitting room. 'Rene's in there.' Officer Trevors peels off and enters the room. Jim leads the rest of them to his father's office. He stops at the door. 'Daddy's in here.' He pushes the door open and stands to one side.

'You don't have to go in again James. I can take it from here.' Jim nods and walks back to be with Irene.

Two-year-old Sherlock runs into the kitchen of their house and crawls under the table to hide from Mycroft. Mycroft tiptoes comically into the kitchen making Sherlock giggle loudly. Violet turns to look at Mycroft tiptoeing in. 'I thought I asked you look keep an eye on your brother Mycroft.'

'I am mummy, we're playing hide go seek.' Mycroft stops tiptoeing and walks around the table towards his mother allowing Sherlock to crawl out and run out of the kitchen. Mycroft watches him go before turning back to Violet. 'You're thinking about Jimmy and Rene aren't you?' Violet nods sadly a tear slides down her cheek. Mycroft hugs his mother before running out of the kitchen to find his youngest sibling.

'Dinner in twenty minutes Mycroft.'

'Yes Mummy.' Mycroft's voice floats into the kitchen. Violet bends down to open the oven door enabling her slide in a pie to cook for their dinner. She closes the oven door and collapses into a seat at the table. She puts her head in her hands and starts crying. She fails to hear the soft pitter-patter of Sherlock's feet as he re-enters the kitchen. He toddles up to her and tugs at her sleeve.

'Mama. Mama.' Violet ignores her youngest and Mycroft takes his hand. 'Why mama crying Mykey?' Mycroft watches his mother crying for a couple of moments before leading his brother out of the kitchen allowing his mother to grieve for her lost twins.

Mycroft leads Sherlock to his bedroom. 'Why mama crying?' Mycroft closes the door firmly shutting it. He gets a couple of books from Sherlock's bookshelf and holds them up for Sherlock to choose.

'Which one?' Sherlock looks closely at the two books before choosing the one in Mycroft's right hand.

'That one.' Mycroft replaces the other book onto the shelf and settles into a beanbag. Sherlock climbs onto his brother's lap and settles down to listen to the story.

Ten minutes into the reading of the story, Sherlock twists in Mycroft's lap to look up at his older brother. 'Who's Wene?' Mycroft stops reading the story and looks at his little brother.

'Rene?' Sherlock nods. 'Where did you hear that name?'

'In my thleep.'

'When you dream?' Sherlock nods again. Mycroft cuddles him.

'Rene and Jimmy, I dweam of them lots.'

'What happens in your dreams?'

'We play, all of us. You too Mycwoft.'

'The four of us play?' Sherlock nods for a third time 'With what?' Sherlock waves a hand around his room. Mycroft swallows nervously. 'Do you want me to carry on with the story?'

'Yes.' Mycroft turns the page and carries on reading to Sherlock.

Five minutes later the story is finished. Mycroft replaces the book on the shelf and settles Sherlock on the floor with a couple of toys. He walks down the stairs and into the kitchen. 'Mummy?' Violet dries her eyes and looks at her eldest son.

'Yes Mycroft?'

'Sherlock dreams about the twins.' Violet turns her head to look at Mycroft fully.

'Pardon?'

'Sherlock asked me who Rene was. Then he told me that he dreams that he is playing with them and me.'

'Did you tell him?' Mycroft shakes his head. 'Then don't tell him. He's young, he'll forget soon enough.'

'Yes Mummy.'

'Go and get Sherlock ready for dinner.' Mycroft nods and turns away from the kitchen as he goes to fetches his little brother for the mealtime.


	4. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

_August 1988_

Jim sits on his bed by the window in the room given to him in the care home where he and Irene had been taken to after discovering their father's body. Jim looks out of the window and watches the other children play in the garden. A knock sounds at the door. Jim turns his head to look. Irene stands framed in the doorway. Jim offers her a small smile. 'Still not speaking?' Jim shakes his head. 'Please, I need you speak.' Tears start to fall down her cheeks. Jim opens his arms to her and folds them around her. He rubs her back and rests his chin on her shoulder. 'Please Jimmy.' She whispers into his neck 'Please speak.' Jim pulls back and looks at her tear stained face. He smiles weakly and brushes hair off her forehead.

'Happy birthday Rene.' He rasps. Irene smiles broadly and pulls him into a tight hug.

'Ahh look at the freaks. The wimp and the mute.' An older boy enters the room smirking. Irene flinches.

'Leave us alone.'

'The mute speaks.' The boy sniggers as Jim's expression sours. He pushes Irene onto the bed and stands up. Irene grabs at her twin brother's arm. She pulls him back and whispers in his ear. Jim smiles evilly as Irene smiles seductively at the boy. He steps back suddenly nervous.

'Leave…' Jim coughs to clear his throat 'Leave us alone or the house parents will find out who really destroyed the kitchen.' The boy glares at the two of them. The twins look back.

'You wouldn't dare.'

'Try us.' Irene replies. She steps forward and the boy turns and flees. The evil and seductive expressions fall from their faces as the boy's footsteps pound down the corridor. 'What's wrong Jimmy?'

'Mummy doesn't love us.' Jim slumps onto his bed. Irene sits next to him and pulls her knees to her chest.

'Why doesn't she?'

'Mummy would have come and got us by now.'

'She promised that she wouldn't attempt to find us.'

'Mummy would be Daddy's next of kin. She would be told that he's dead.' Irene stares at the duvet.

'She hasn't been told.' Jim looks at her suspiciously.

'Why?' Irene shrugs and looks at her twin. 'How do you know?'

'I heard our social worker tell the manager.' Jim moves across his bed to look out of the window. He stabs at the window.

'Rene come here.' Irene scrambles across to the window. 'See that boy?'

'In the blue jumper?'

'With the hood up yeah.' Irene looks at her brother. 'His dad is a thief.'

'What does that mean?'

'His dad taught him.' Irene looks at her brother quizzically before understanding she grins.

'Want me to go and get him?' Jim smiles. Irene climbs off the bed and Jim watches her leave the room. Minutes later she watches her cross the garden and approach the thief's son.

Irene tugs on the sleeve of jumper worn by the son of the thief. He pushes her away forcing her to fall. Undeterred, she regains her feet and pushes the boy into the tree he was leaning against. She stands her ground as he turns on her. 'What do you want Shorty?'

'My name is Irene.' She points up at Jim's window. 'My twin brother wants to talk to you.'

'Get lost, tell your brother to get lost as well.' The boy turns his back on her. She glances up to the window. Jim raises his hand and rubs his thumb on his fingers. Irene pokes the boy. He turns back to her. 'Don't you listen shorty?'

'It's Irene. He wants to make a deal.'

'I'm listening.' Irene smiles but walks towards the house. The boy looks at her retreating back. 'What's the deal?' she glances over her shoulder then enters the house. Minutes later, she appears at the window next to her brother. The boy watches them watch him. Seconds pass before Jim shrugs and the twins retreat away from the window.

Irene and Jim sit on Jim's bed studiously ignoring the window. Irene gets of the bed and walks past the window to the bedside table. She opens the drawer and takes out Jim's pack of cards. 'What are we playing?' she asks as she climbs back onto the bed.

'Irish Snap.' Irene shuffles the cards and deals them out. As they each gather up their allocated cards the boy appears at the door. Neither of them acknowledge his presence until their game is well underway. 'I thought you weren't coming.' Jim declares keeping his eyes on the game.

'What's the deal?'

'We want to take a look at our files.'

'And?'

'In return for your help we'll give you two weeks pocket money.'

'What's your name kid?'

'James.'

'Aren't you the mute boy?'

'Evidently I'm not.' Jim scowls at the boy.

'No but you were.' Jim ignores him preferring to concentrate on the card game. 'Ok James, it's a deal. I'll help you break in to the office so you can look at your files in return for ten pounds.' Jim frowns.

'He's right Jimmy.' Irene reassures Jim. 'We get two pounds fifty a week each right?' Jim nods 'two pounds fifty plus two pounds fifty is?'

'Five pounds.' Jim smiles. He looks up at the boy 'what's your name?'

'Lawrence Cavendish.'

'Right Lawrence, deal.' He sticks his hand out to Lawrence who steps into the room and shakes it.

'When?'

'Tomorrow night, 11o'clock. Rene will be lookout.' Lawrence nods and leaves the twins to their game.

'Happy birthday Jimmy.'

Violet sets a large cake down on the table where Mycroft is solving puzzles. Sherlock sits in his high chair and bangs his hand on the tray. Mycroft looks at his younger brother 'Lockie, stop that please.' Sherlock giggles and reaches out for his brother. Violet lifts him out of the chair and sets him on her hip. She tickles his chin making him giggle again. Mycroft glances at the cake then up to his mother.

'Yes Croft, is there are problem?'

'I didn't say anything Mummy.'

'I got your drift though young man.' Mycroft smiles nervously.

'Cake. Mama cake.'

'Yes, Sherlock, there's a cake on the table.'

'Mama I wanna cake.'

'Lockie.'

'Mama I want cake.'

'Better Lockie but?'

'Mama I want cake pwease.'

'Better again but it will do for now.' Violet reseats him in his high chair before cutting the cake. As she cuts the first slice she closes her eyes to make a wish. Mycroft copies his mother's actions and also makes a wish. Sherlock watches the both of them and sticks his thumb in his mouth,

'Mama, CAKE!' Mycroft and Violet open their eyes and share a sad smile.

'Okay Sherlock.' Mycroft reaches over to his brother and gently makes Sherlock remove his thumb from his mouth. Violet plates up three slices of the cake and dices one of the slices up before giving it to Sherlock. She gives Mycroft a second plate and sits down opposite Mycroft with the third slice. As she nibbles her slice she watch Sherlock make a mess with his slice and Mycroft absentmindedly eating his whilst solving various puzzles. 'Happy Birthday Rene, Jimmy.' She murmurs under her breath.


	5. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

_April 1990_

Jim stands in front of a desk, behind which his and Irene's social worker sits looking at him through her spectacles. He stands quietly with an expression of determination on his face, as he looks her steadily in the eye. 'Now James, this is the seventeenth foster home we've put you in and you've runaway from. Why?' Jim shrugs. 'James, I need you to tell me why you keep running away. Speak to me' James glances around the office but stays quiet. The social worker sighs and shuffles papers on her desk. Jim drops his gaze and he scans the papers reading upside down. He smirks and schools his features into a neutral expression as she looks up. She picks up one of the papers and looks at it. She glances between the paper and Jim. She hands the paper to James who takes it and scans it.

'Mr Jared Moriarty'. The social worker sneers.

'He's often questioned by police and it's rumoured that he has fingers in a lot of pies. Not necessarily all legal.' Jim raises the paper to hide a small smile that creeps onto his face. 'I will send you there temporarily to see what happens.' Jim gives the profile back to his social worker, his mind racing. 'Will you go there?' Jim pauses before answering.

'I'll try it.'

'Thank you, James. That's all I ask.' Jim turns to leave the office. He turns back.

'Will he let me see my sister?'

'You'll have to ask him I'm afraid James.' Jim nods then leaves the office. He closes the door behind him before a smile spreads across his face. He walks down the corridor towards the garden to find his twin sister.

In the garden, Irene sits on a swing and uses her foot to push the swing back and forth. Jim circles the play area. 'I know you're there Jimmy.' Jim walks towards her and sits on the other swing. 'The hag give you another home?'

'Yeah. She's getting desperate. With both of us.' The two of them grin at each other. 'Being sent to an Irish bloke, Cops seem to love questioning him.'

'Will you runaway?'

'Dunno.'

'Jimmy?'

'She doesn't want to send me to him. It's almost worth staying with him to annoy her.' He slips off the swing and looks at Irene. 'I don't want to come back here. I want… I want our mother and brothers. I want our family.'

'The files said she was dead.' Irene replies flatly.

'I know. But…'

'I know it feels wrong to say she's dead.' Jim nods sadly. 'Do you know if she's sending me to anyone soon?'

'Some professional woman in London. I guess it's the same situation as me. We've runway too much. Last resort for both of us.'

'Where does the Irish bloke live?'

'Winchester.' Irene looks at her brother with a stricken face. 'I know.' Jim swallows. 'Maybe we're holding onto the past too tightly Rene-'

'IRENE HOLMES!' Irene and Jim look towards the house.

'Let her wait.' Jim takes hold of his sister's hand.

'Rene, I know that we both want to stay together and we both want to be with Mummy, Mycroft and Sherlock. We need to be big and brave and make them proud of us. Proud of what we can achieve. So we can't be together. But we can remember. They can't take our memories. Can they?' Irene looks at her feet refusing to look her twin brother. Jim ducks down to force her to look in his eyes 'Can they Rene?' she shakes her head slightly 'Rene?'

'No, no they can't.' She slips off her swing and walks along the length of the garden towards the house just as their social worker emerges from the house to find her. Jim watches the two of them disappear into the house before walking to the building and heading up to his room to pack his belongings.

'Sherlock Joseph Holmes, come here this instant!' Violet's voice echoes in every corner of the house. Sherlock curls up into a ball under his bed and covers his ears with his hands. Feet appear at the bottom of Sherlock's bed.

'Sherlock, the longer you wait the worse it'll get.'

'Tell tale.' Sherlock hisses from his hiding place.

'You shouldn't have broken Mummy's favourite figurine set.' Mycroft leaves Sherlock's room and walks down the stairs. Violet walks out of the sitting room.

'Mycroft, where is your brother?'

'Haven't seen him Mummy.' Mycroft replies honestly. Violet looks down at her eleven-year-old son.

'I didn't ask whether you had seen him or not. I asked you to tell me where your brother is.'

'I heard him run up the stairs but I didn't pay attention to where he went.'

'Hmm, if you say so Mycroft. Don't you have homework to do?'

'I'm just about to start it Mummy.'

'Your brother can learn a lot from you Croft.' Violet raises her voice making sure Sherlock can hear it in his room. 'Especially about accepting responsibility.' Under his bed Sherlock flinches at the tone of Violet's voice. He hesitates before crawling out and cautiously approaching his bedroom door. Schooling his features into an expression of remorse he edges onto the landing and the top of the stairs looking down at his mother.

'I'm sorry Mummy.'

'Mycroft, kitchen homework.' Mycroft retreats into the kitchen and closes the door. Violet beckons for her younger son to descend the stairs. Sherlock walks down nervously halting just out of his mother's reach. She steps forward and brushes the dust of his clothes. 'Really Sherlock hiding under the bed?' Sherlock relaxes slightly and receives a clip on his ear from his mother's hand. 'That is for not coming immediately. As for breaking my figurines, no pocket money for two weeks, grounded for a month. That means you have to stay in the house unless you have express permission from me and only me.' Sherlock's jaw drops.

'But-' Violet cuts him off

'Be thankful I'm not confiscating your experiments or toys young man.' Sherlock closes his mouth and nods. He heads to the kitchen. 'Where are you going?'

'Homework mummy.' Violet suppresses a smile and re-enters the sitting room to clear up the figurines. Sherlock opens the door to the kitchen and walks in to sit at the table.

'You got off lightly.' Mycroft remarks as he enters.

'I know.' Sherlock casts a glance over his shoulder. 'It was your fault. You and your friends dared me to.' He hisses.

'Sherlock it was a joke. You weren't meant to actually do it. Anyway Mummy knows exactly what happened.'

'How?'

'Lloyd and Simon were laughing about it when Mummy took us to town at the weekend. You had run into the library. We were just about to walk in when they walked past. She heard everything. I'm grounded too because of it.'


	6. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

_August 1994_

Jim sits at a desk going though papers in front of him. On some of them are blueprints and others are notes on security features. A phone rings in another room but Jim ignores it concentrating on the papers in front of him. 'JIM?' a man's voice with an Irish lilt to it floats through the door. Seconds later a knock sounds at Jim's bedroom door. 'Jim?' Jim puts down his papers and rises from his desk chair. He glances around the room and deems it tidy enough. He unlocks his door and opens it.

'How's the planning coming along?' Jim shrugs. He steps back and lets his foster father enter his room carrying a phone with the mouthpiece covered. 'Phone.' Jim reaches out for the phone and Jared Moriarty hands it to him.

''lo?'

'Very eloquent Jimmy.' Irene's voice spills out of the phone's speaker.

'Rene?'

'Course. Wow you sound so Irish.' Jim laughs

'I do live in Dublin, Rene. You can't talk you sound posh.'

'Belgravia darling. What do you expect?' the two of them pause. Jim glances at Jared looking around his room. 'Jimmy?'

'Yeah Rene?'

'Is there a chance that you might be in London in the next fortnight?'

'Wait a sec.' he turns to face Jared. 'Sir, might we be able to go to London?' Jared turns to face Jim.

'When?'

'For my birthday?'

'Wondered when you'd ask. Bit late now.' Jim watches Jared as he goes through the papers on Jim's desk. Jim's shoulders slump slightly. Jared straightens, turns and looks Jim in the eye. He smirks. 'We leave in three days to spend two weeks there.' Jim smiles brightly.

'Rene, we'll be there in three days.' Irene's cheer is clearly audible for Jared to hear on the opposite side of the room. Jim giggles slightly. 'I want lots of presents from you Rene.'

'Don't be cheeky James.' Jared admonishes him.

'See you on the weekend Rene. I've got to go, work to do and all that.'

'Wait what are you doing?'

'Learning the business.'

Irene hangs the phone down and walks into her sitting room and replaces the handset on the base. 'Rene?' her foster mother's soft voice floats into the room. Irene walks to the door and looks up the stairs.

'Yes?'

'I need your help darling.' The woman smiles and Irene darts back into the sitting room and remerges carrying a camera. Irene climbs the stairs towards her guardian. Irene is lead to the back bedroom. A couple of hours later, Irene creeps out of the room and scuttles down the stairs clutching the camera to her chest. She darts into the sitting room and hides the camera. She tidies her hair and straightens her clothes before walking out into the hall. A man in military uniform walks down the stairs followed by Irene's guardian rubbing his wrists.

'What you looking at squirt?' The woman slaps the officer's head. Irene just smiles at the military man and offers him his coat and satchel.

'General.'

'Same time next month General Watson?'

'Of course Miss Sophia Adler.' The general turns and kisses the hand of Sophia Adler. He glares at Irene as their maid opens the door and he exits. The maid closes the door and walks past Sophia and Irene into the kitchen.

'Camera?'

'In the safe.' Sophie twists to look at Irene

'In the safe?'

'You showed me where it was. It only took me ten minutes to work out the most likely combination.' Irene looks down at her perfectly manicured hands and smiles up at Sophia.

'When you're old enough treasure, you and I will be formidable. School work my little genius.' Irene walks into the other room opposite the sitting room to complete her schoolwork. 'When's Jim getting here?'

'The weekend.'

Sherlock sits at the kitchen table with his chemistry set recording the reactions of various substances with a particular acid. Mycroft enters the kitchen behind Sherlock who ignore his presence. Mycroft walks around to the opposite side of the table and slams his coursework on the top jolting the test tubes. 'Careful Mycroft!' He protests

'Sorry Sherlock.' Mycroft hisses. Sherlock glances up at Mycroft tone. He raises an eyebrow at the state of Mycroft's face. 'Don't. Say. A. Thing.' Sherlock replaces the test tube he's holding into the stand before slipping off his chair and retrieving the first aid kit. He also removes some ice from the freezer and wraps it in a towel. He gives it to his brother to put on his eye and nose. 'Where's Mummy?'

'Gone to see Mrs Nelson in town.' Mycroft hisses as Sherlock dabs at the cuts on Mycroft's face with antiseptic. 'Don't be a wimp.'

'It stings.'

'Not that much.' Sherlock glances at his chemical reactions. His face becomes delighted and he darts around the table to jot more notes down. 'Brilliant, brilliant.' He goes back to Mycroft and finishes cleaning his brother's face and hands. Mycroft throws a weary glance at the chemicals with his good eye. Sherlock catches it. 'Don't worry, I haven't used any corrosives or irritants.' Sherlock moves over to a counter and reaches up for tin. He places it on the counter and takes out a half-eaten cake.

'Should you be eating that?'

'Mummy said we could each have a slice when you got back.' Sherlock looks at his brother. 'I think you could do with one.' Mycroft chuckles before grabbing his ribs. Sherlock looks at him worriedly. 'Who did this?'

'The elder Pycroft twins.' Sherlock's face drops. The elder set of Pycroft twins were a year older than Mycroft and were as strong as Mycroft was smart. The younger pair of Pycroft twins didn't have as much strength as their elder brothers but were smarter for it. They were also the same age as Sherlock. All four of those boys deemed it their life's work to make Sherlock's and Mycroft's lives as difficult as possible since they moved to the village of Hindhead three year previously. Sherlock replaces the cake in the tin.

'Sherlock?' Mycroft wheezes.

'You need a hospital.' Sherlock stares at his brother. 'They nearly cracked my ribs. You're worse than I was.' Sherlock scurries out of the kitchen to find their house phone.

'Call Mummy.'

'Mummy? Someone has beaten Mycroft up. I think he needs the hospital… yes Mummy I'm going to do it after talking to you… no he hasn't… he refuses to. Yes Mummy.' In the kitchen Mycroft listens to Sherlock talking on the phone to their mother. 'Yes Mummy, right away Mummy.' Sherlock hangs up the phone before taking it back down. 'Hello? My brother has been beaten up and needs an ambulance. Our address is 3 Beech Court Hindhead. He's wheezing and sometimes clutches his ribs on the right side. I think his leg might be injured too… no I'm eight and half he's fifteen… Mummy isn't here right now but she's coming. Okay the door will be open.' Mycroft listens to Sherlock hang up the phone again before running to the door to prop it open. He heads back to the kitchen to clear up his experiments. He empties all the test tubs into a plastic bowl before placing them in another bowl. He rummages around in the cupboard under the sink and sprinkles a white powder over the bowl with the chemicals in. the contents of the bowl fizz for a couple of moments before settling. Sherlock waits for a couple for moments before empties the contents into the sink.

'Should you be doing that?'

'What? No, it fine now. I neutralised the acids so I just tipped water down the sink really. Violet strides though the door and appraises her eldest.

'Who hit you?' Mycroft flinches and clutches his ribs in pain. Violet looks t her youngest. 'When is the ambulance getting here?'

'Any minute now.' On cue an ambulance backs onto their driveway and two paramedics jump out. Violet heads to the door and opens it fully knocking the prop out of the way.

'In the kitchen.' She directs them to her injured son.

Jim and Jared walk along a street in a well-off neighbourhood in London. Jim glances at each street name and house number. Jared notices and places his hand on Jim's shoulder. 'We need to see a client first before you can go and see your sister.'

'I know.' Jim replies calmly. 'I'm just memorising the area, planning ahead.' Jared laughs and squeezes Jim's shoulder. 'What number do we need?'

'494.' Jim points to a house just ahead of them on the opposite side of the road.

'It's that one.' Jared steers Jim over the road and they knock on the door.

Two hours later Jim and Jared emerge from the house of their client. Jim's expression is intrigued while Jared's expression is annoyed. 'Sorry about that Jim I thought that it would be more interesting.' Jim shrugs not really paying attention to Jared. Jared glances at his adopted son and tests whether or not Jim had been paying attention by suddenly stopping in the street. Jim walks on a few yards before stopping and turning back to Jared. Jim grins sheepishly and Jared resumes his walking and Jim falls into step next to his new father.

'Did I ever thank you for adopting me?'

'Not as such, your help and advice speaks volumes.' Jim smiles. 'Go on, you have opinions.'

'Are you going to solve the problem?'

'Maybe.' Jim glances up at Jared's face. 'He has a gossip's reputation.' Jim grins slyly. Jared guides Jim into a nearby café. The two of them sit at a table opposite each other. 'Well?' He demands.

'Did you see the pictures on the mantle.'

'His wife and children, so?'

'What about the ones on the dresser in the corner of the room?'

'There weren't any.'

'Not while we were there. Nor I would presume when he has any company in that house.'

'_That_ house?'

'It didn't seemed lived in. No toys, no papers only a few photos, for appearance purposes.'

'Blackmail.'

'His reputation is unwarranted. He keeps at least two houses and earns at least 750,000 per year.' Jim and Jared grin slyly.

'We can get a decent amount from of him.' The two of them drain their drinks and leave the café. Ten minutes later finds them outside another house in the same neighbourhood and ringing the bell.

'How can I help you?'

'Jimmy for Rene.' Jim speaks into the intercom as the door clicks open. Jim grins and pushes the door open. He and Jared step into the tastefully decorated entrance hall. Irene flies down the stairs and launches herself into her twin brother's arms.

'JIMMY!' She shrieks. Jim laughs at her.

'Rene, you don't need to shout in his ear.' Sophia chastises as Irene takes a small step back with a small smile.

'Sorry, Jimmy.' Jim pulls her back in for another hug. She whispers in his ear 'I'm adopted now. Sophia's now my mother.'

'Me too.' He whispers back. Over the head of the twins Sophia gestures for Jared to enter the sitting room. He enters the room and Sophia follows him in.

'Rene says her birth mother is dead, is this true?'

'No. I did some research last year and as far as their mother and brothers are concerned Irene and James are still living in Guildford with their father.'

'You aren't going to tell him?'

'No. You?'

'No. Ignorance is bliss and all that.'


	7. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

_September 1996_

Sherlock lies on his bed sulking as he listens to his brother packing his clothes and books for university. A knock sounds on his door but he ignores it. The door opens and Violet enters. She moves his legs to make space for her to sit on the bed. She looks around his room in silence. 'You really need to tidy up in here.' Sherlock grunts in reply. She looks over to her youngest son. 'Why don't you want Mycroft to leave?' Sherlock utters something unintelligible into his pillow. Violet tucks a curl of Sherlock's hair behind his ear. 'Pardon?'

'I need him.'

'I know you need him. But why do you need him?' Sherlock tucks his head back into his pillow. Violet sighs and pulls her ten-year-old son onto her lap and cuddles him. Mycroft appears at the door. 'How's your packing going Croft?'

'It's okay Mummy.' Mycroft replies watching his little brother 'It should be finished by the end of the day.'

'Ready to go to university?' Mycroft looks at his brother in their mother's lap and shakes his head. 'Why?' Mycroft's gaze stays on his little brother. Violet sighs again heavily. 'I wish the two of you would tell me what's going on.' Sherlock stirs from his mothers lap and lunges at his brother wrapping his arms around Mycroft's waist.

'Don't go. Please Crofty.' Sherlock buries his face into Mycroft's chest. 'I need you here.' Sobs rack though Sherlock's body as he clings to Mycroft. Mycroft gently disentangles himself from little brother and holds Sherlock's shoulders. Mycroft's eyes search his brother's tear stained face.

'I have to. It's a great opportunity for me. Lockie, you have to learn to do things for yourself. I'll miss you little brother.' Mycroft draws Sherlock back in for a hug. 'I'm sorry Sherlock.' Mycroft looks at his mother helplessly over Sherlock's head. Violet shrugs and shakes her head

'If you don't tell me I can't help.' Mycroft feels Sherlock shake his head.

'Don't tell her.' He mutters muffled. Violet rises from the bed.

'Calm him down, lunch in twenty.' She edges around the brothers and leaves Sherlock's bedroom heading for the stairs. Sherlock pulls his head out his Mycroft's chest and watches his mother descend. He pulls Mycroft into his room and shuts the door.

'Sherlock we have to tell her.'

'No.'

'It will only get worse.' Tears flow freely down Sherlock's cheeks.

'Why do you think I don't want you to go?'

'Mummy needs to know Sherlock. Those threats. They're just empty threats.' Mycroft lifts Sherlock's chin forcing him to look at Mycroft's eyes. 'They don't mean anything.' Mycroft uses his thumb to wipe the tears from his brother's cheeks. 'Listen, I told a half-truth to mummy. It will take me another hour at the most to finish my packing. Why don't we go for a walk after lunch, just the two of us.' Sherlock nods reluctantly. Mycroft smiles. 'Lunch in fifteen, remember.' Mycroft turns to the door but is restrained by Sherlock.

'Where are you going?'

'To make a couple of calls.'

Ten minutes later Violet, Sherlock and Mycroft are seated at the lunch table eating. Or rather Violet and Mycroft are eating while Sherlock picks at his food. 'Sherlock eat your lunch properly.'

'Not hungry.' Sherlock mumbles. Mycroft gives him a look and Sherlock takes a proper mouthful of food and chews it scowling.

'Thank you, Sherlock. Mycroft what are your plans for later?'

'I thought that Sherlock and I could go for a walk so we can just talk about stuff.' Violet nods in agreement.

'And your packing?'

'It'll take an hour, two maximum Mummy.'

'Go when Sherlock,' violet shoots a warning look at Sherlock, 'has finished at least half the food.'

Two hours later, Mycroft walks back into the house and pauses in the entrance hall. He listens to silence of the house. He frowns. Violet walks out of the kitchen and watches him for a moment. 'What's wrong Croft?'

'Hasn't Lockie come back?'

'Haven't heard him.' Mycroft's frown deepens. 'Why?' Mycroft forces himself to smile at his mother.

'I'm probably over reacting Mummy. It'll be nothing.' Mycroft hastily makes way to his room to continue his packing.

'What time do you want to leave tomorrow?' Violet calls up the stairs after him.

'I want to be there by two. Anytime between ten and twelve I guess.' Mycroft calls back down relieved with the change of conversation subject. Mycroft disappears into his room after quickly checking Sherlock's room to see of little brother was hiding in there. 'Where are you Lockie?' he murmurs to himself as he finishes packing. As he zips shuts the final suitcase Mycroft hears the front door slam ad footsteps running up the stairs with hisses of pain. He steps over the suitcases and pokes his head out of his door in time to see Sherlock run into his room and slam the door. Mycroft winces as the door rattles in its frame. He walks down the stairs to the kitchen and retrieves the first aid kit. He re-ascends the stair and knocks on Sherlock's bedroom door. 'Lockie? Can I come in?'

'It's open.' Sherlock's reply is muffled. Mycroft opens the door and walks in. he lets out an involuntary gasps at the state of his little brother. He shuts the door behind him and steps over all the debris on the floor to the bed. He helps Sherlock take off his shirt and jacket.

'They're completely ruined.' Mycroft exclaimed as he dumps them on the floor.

'Blame the Pycrofts, not me.'

'What did they do this time?'

'Chased me into the woods while you were talking to Mrs Nelson and Mr Drake in the bakery. Then kept pushing me into brambles and the like.' Sherlock hisses as Mycroft rubs his back with the antiseptic.

'You seem to be relatively lucky. No punches or kicks.' Sherlock arches his back to dislodge Mycroft's hand. With a lot of difficulty and pain he turns on his side so his back is facing away from his brother. In the middle of his abdomen a round bruise has started to form just above Sherlock's belly button. 'Jesus!'

'Where's Mummy?'

'Garage, she's filling the car ready for tomorrow.' Mycroft collapses onto his brother's bed. 'Now I really don't want to leave you.'

'I'm sorry Myc.' Sherlock says softly.

'Why are you apologising? It's my fault I-'

'If I hadn't had that tantrum earlier we wouldn't have gone for that walk and…' Sherlock trails off.

'Yes but I started the conversation with Mrs Nelson and Mr Drake. I ignored you. I left you outside. I _failed _to notice the Pycrofts watching us.'

'It was all four of them Myc.' Sherlock whispers softly. Mycroft freezes. 'They were expecting you to follow.' Mycroft freezes. Sherlock painfully gets off his bed and takes his jeans off revealing a myriad of bruises covering his skinny legs. Mycroft's jaw drops. 'No punches or kicks, that'll be the day.' Sherlock laughs humourlessly.

'WHO DID THAT TO YOU?' Violet demands as she strides into Sherlock's room. Mycroft and Sherlock spin to look at the door.

'M-Mummy.' Sherlock stutters. Violet stands there with her hands on her hips.

'Well?'

'Umm.' Sherlock looks to Mycroft.

'I'm waiting.' Sherlock's face crumples. Violet reaches out to him and draws him into her embrace. 'I'm sorry baby.' She whispers into his hair. 'Is this why you don't want Mycroft to leave?'

'Yes Mummy.' Sherlock mutters into her chest. Her expression hardens again.

'Croft tell me.' Mycroft drops his gaze to the floor. He sighs.

'The Pycroft boys, all four of them.' He glances up to his mother's eyes before dropping back to the floor. 'They've been making our lives misery ever since the moved here five years ago.' Violet guides her youngest back over to the bed.

'That's why you want out of here?' Mycroft nods. 'And Lockie why you begged for a personal tutor?' Sherlock nods against her chest. 'I'm sorry boys. I should have noticed.' Mycroft puts his hand on her shoulder.

'Mummy, we've been hiding it well.'

'Mr Drake knows.' Sherlock mutters.

'What?' Mycroft says stunned. 'How?'

'When you two went to look at universities. I went into town and Tom and Jerry started taunting me. When they moved onto pushing and shoving Mr Drake pulled me behind him and shouted at them to run off. He made me tell him everything.'

'Why didn't he tell me?'

'I begged him not to.'

Jim stretches in his bed having just woken up; he rubs his eyes and glances at the clock. 10 o'clock, he groans and snuggles back under the duvet. Jared bangs on his bedroom door. 'Jim get up, son.' Jim groans again but louder. 'Get up or I'll pick the lock.'

'It's bolted.' Jim mutters. He pushes his duvet back and rubs his eyes again. He stands and walks over to open the door.

'About time. Jimbo.' Jared pauses and looks at the thirteen year old boy in front of him. 'What time did you get in last night?'

'Two thirty, stupid gits didn't know what they were supposed to do.' He peers up at Jared. 'Remind me why I have to go through this.'

'People respect experience, you can plan all you like but if you don't actually experience the emotions and the on-the-job problem that can crop up.'

'I learnt that all right last night.' Jim grumbles. 'I made them stand guard while I executed the theft.' Jared smirks.

'Your thirteen, they were?'

'Sixty-three between them. Thirty and thirty three.'

'How?'

'Punched Seamus in the throat and Fionn in the stomach. Disarmed them. Made them stand guard.' Jared snorts in distain.

'Your tutor will be here in ninety minutes.' Jim groans but Jared ignores it and walks away

Irene walks along the racks of expensive and revealing clothing looking for suitable items. She pulls out a couple of things and holds them against herself. She looks in a mirror and muses. She shakes her head and puts them back. 'Find anything Rene?' Sophia breezes through the store towards her. Irene shakes her head. 'Shame.' Sophia scans the rack with a practised eye. 'There's usually something. But I suppose there can be one season in which nothing is… hello?' Sophia swoops on a very low cut crop-top further along the rail from Irene. She holds it against herself and turns to Irene. 'What do you think? For the general?'

'Perfect.' Irene grins back. 'Wait.' She dashes over to a different rack and rummages trough it to find a very short mini skirt. The two Adlers put the outfit together and…

'Won't the general be surprised?'

'Especially with those heeled boots.'

'The black ones?'

'The studded ones you bought last week.' Sophia smiles crudely.

'That's me sorted, what about you?' Irene dashes around the shops and in not time at all has a similar but more conservative outfit put together including shoes.

Sherlock helps his mother and Mycroft carry all of Mycroft's things to the car. As Violet closes the boot and Mycroft stows some of the smaller and lighter stuff in the rear passenger seats Mr Drake walks down the drive. Sherlock spots him first. 'Hello Mr Drake!' He calls. Mycroft looks up and Violet

'Good Morning Mr Drake.'

'Mr Drake It's good to see you.' Violet pauses. 'May I ask why you didn't tell me about the victimisation of my sons?' Mr Drake freezes for a second.

'They told you then?'

'Only after I walked in on Mycroft tending to Sherlock's wounds yesterday afternoon.'

'Mummy, I think it's best to talk inside.' Mycroft says nervously. Violet nods and gestures for Mr Drake to enter the house, Violet follows on his heels and after sharing looks Sherlock and Mycroft follow behind.

'Mrs Holmes, I didn't say anything behind young Sherlock was in a great deal of distress,' Mr Drake begins as soon as the door is shut. 'And I didn't want to add to it so I promised. Intending to break said promise if I caught the boys at it again.'

'They made sure that no one could see what was happening after you helped me Mr Drake.' Sherlock interjects

'And kept his face free of injury.' Mycroft adds.

'However, I spotted Sherlock leaping my fence yesterday afternoon and hiding in my garden. No.' Mr drake holds up a hand to stop Violet from interrupting. 'In our talk the other month I told Sherlock that he and Mycroft are welcome to use my premises to hide if the situation were to arise as it evidently did yesterday.' He turns to Sherlock 'I saw that your clothing was in a right state.' Sherlock nods.

'It was completely ruined.' Mycroft intercedes.

'Brambles?' Sherlock nods.

'Their favourite spot, brambles and nettles.' He mutters darkly. 'Near that rundown old house.' Mycroft glances at the clock on the wall.

'Mummy, we should be getting going.' Violet hesitates.

'Violet.' Mr Drake rests his hands on her shoulders. 'I'll stay here with Sherlock. Don't you worry about him for today. Okay?' Violet nods and offers him a small smile. He turns to Mycroft. He reaches into his jacket and withdraws a chunky envelope. 'Here's a little something for you from myself and Mrs Nelson.' He offers to Mycroft but moves it out of his reach. 'Only on the condition that you don't open it until you are settled into your room at University.'

'Understood Mr Drake.' Mr Drake gives the envelope to Mycroft who tucks it into his pocket. Violet and Mycroft leave the house and climb into the car. Mr Drake and Sherlock watch as the car pulls out of the drive and onto the main road. Once the car is out of sight the two of them withdraw to the kitchen.

'What's in the envelope then Sherlock?' Mr Drake asks as Sherlock makes him a cup of coffee.

'Four hundred, two from you and two from Mrs Nelson.'

'Go on.'

'You gave him the condition so he wasn't in a position to refuse the money on account that both you and Mrs Nelson basically live on your pensions. He would say it was too much.' Mr Drake smiles warmly at the boy now sitting opposite him with a glass of milk.

'Now tell me about your experiments.' Sherlock grins and begins talking.


	8. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

_March 1999_

Jim sits in a café in the middle of Oxford observing the people walking past. He periodically sips from his drink. And watches out for the man who had set up the meeting. He glances at his watch and grimaces. Twenty minutes late. Rapidly Jim makes a calculation for the add-on charges the client when he turns up. Loud cheers from the other side of the square makes him glance over to see what was happening. He glances at the clock in the clock and notes the date. _Happy birthday Mykey, 20 today, hope you are alive and having fun _he thinks. He smiles sadly. 'Mr Jonathan Woods.' Jim glances up and rises from his seat, his face impassive.

'Mr Warren Dale I presume.' Warren Dale sticks his hand out but Jim ignores it as he gestures for him to take a seat. A waitress walks over to their table. 'Two coffees.' The waitress walks away leaving the two of them sat at the table in silence. Jim glares at Warren. 'Well what is your problem?' he growls.

'Moving, selling and removals.'

'It'll cost you.'

'How much?'

'Plus extra for tardiness-'

'How much extra?'

'Excluding the usual charges.'

'How much?' Warren's face darkens.

'I think it's safe to say there won't be much profit for you.'

'Just as long as there is profit.' Warren snarls. The waitress returns carrying the coffee cups and she removes the remains of Jim's first drink. The two of them wait until the waitress has moved out of earshot.

'Don't take that attitude with me.' Jim's voice is low and threatening. 'You deal with me. If I say no, you won't have any help _ever_.'

'You're what fourteen, fifteen? Easy prey.' Warren grins manically. 'Boy, you are in way over your head.' Jim's expression becomes positively demonic. He rises slowly.

'Come with me.' Warren flinches at the tone of Jim's voice and complies with Jim's instructions. The two of them walks out of the café and Jim leads Warren to an isolated spot on the river Isis. Jim reveals a couple of weapons concealed on his body. Warren audibly swallows. 'You really don't want to mess with me. I may be young but it doesn't mean I'm not dangerous.' Jim steps forward crowding Warren. 'I've killed before.' Warren steps back, stumbling on the bank. Jim's hand shoots out and steadies Warren. Jim's expression relaxes and pulls Warren onto firmer ground.

'T-Thanks.' Warren stammers. Jim straightens the man's clothes, soothing the lapels of his jacket.'

'Don't stammer it's not becoming of a gentleman.' Jim steps back. 'Fortunately for you; your problem being solved will help me and my business.'

'The charges?'

'The usual twenty per cent commission.' Jim states blandly. 'Plus thirty per cent of the total amount for making me wait and a final ten per cent for insolence.'

'You want sixty per cent of the total profit?'

'No, Sixty per cent of everything!' Warren swallows but offers his hand t seal the deal. Jim takes it gladly, smiling. Warren makes his escape even more unnerved by the gentle smile on Jim's face than the evil expression that had preceded it. Jim smirks as he watches Warren's disappearing figure. After Jim replaces his weapons in their places he follows Warren back to the café. He enters the café and walks to the counter. 'I'm sorry. I left earlier with out paying my bill. Important business. How much do I owe?'

'Seven pounds twenty.' Jim fishes out his wallet and removes a ten-pound note. He passes it to the girl behind the counter.

'Take the change as a tip. An apology.' He smiles graciously and leaves the café accidently bumping into a student entering the premises. 'My apologies.'

'My fault.' The student brushes off the incident and walks past him into the interior of the café. Jim walks out of the café into the square slightly ruffled at the incident. Something about that student disturbed him.

Mycroft walks into the square in Oxford carrying his notes from the lecture he had just attended. Absorbed in his thoughts he bumps into a younger man at the entrance to his favourite café. 'My apologies.' The man apologises. Mycroft smiles.

'My fault, I wasn't paying attention.' Mycroft walks past the man into the interior of the café to the counter. 'Afternoon Jenny.'

'Your usual Mr Holmes?'

'How many times Jenny? Call me Mycroft.' Behind the counter Jenny smiles. While he waits for his order to be fulfilled he leans on the counter watching the square. He spots the young man he bumped into loitering in the middle of the square casting glances over his shoulder at the café. Mycroft's eyes widen as he recognises the youth. Mentally he slaps himself that it took as long as it did. 'Jenny, look after my notes for a couple of minutes please.' He leaves his papers on the counter and walks swiftly out of the tearoom. He cautiously approaches the youth still loitering in the square. 'Jimmy?' the youth starts and turns to face him.

'Mykey? Mycroft.' Mycroft smiles.

'Hello little brother.' He gestures to the tearoom. 'Care to catch up on the last thirteen years?' Jim opens and closes his mouth but no words leave it. Mycroft chuckles and steers his little brother towards the café. 'We seem to have a similar taste in tearooms.' Mycroft guides him into a chair and heads back to the counter to retrieve his notes and his order. He orders another coffee for Jim.

'What, where-'

'Very eloquent Jim Jimmy Jim.' Jim scowls.

'No one has called me that for years.'

'I am the only one who called you Jim Jimmy Jim. What happened to you?'

'Where were you and Mummy when me and Rene needed you?' Tears prick at Jim's eyes.

'How did you need us?'

'Daddy died two years after he took us.' Mycroft's jaw drops. 'You didn't know?' Mycroft shakes his head dumbly.

'What happened?'

'Twenty foster homes in six years, before moving in with Mr Jared Moriarty who adopted me on my thirteenth birthday. You really didn't know Daddy was dead?'

'No. He and Mummy agreed that she would never try to look for you.' he sighs. 'It didn't stop her trying to find out where you moved to though. She hated that she didn't know where two of her babies were. Thank you Jenny' he thanks Jenny as she refills their coffee cups. 'Every August on your birthday she would bake a cake. Alternating between chocolate fudge and vanilla cherry cakes.' Jim's mouth waters at the mention of his favourite cake.

'Really?' Mycroft nods.

'Sherlock never understood why she does it. Mummy didn't want to upset or worry him.' Mycroft pauses staring down at his coffee. 'He remembers you, vaguely, but he remembers you all the same.'

'He was six months old when we left.'

'A six month old baby, born to parents who are both from families known for their increased brain size. Put him in a situation with increased emotion. The child will pick on the emotions and remember it even if the child doesn't understand.'

'He told you and not Mummy?'

'I think he attempted to talk to her but I think she rebuffed him so he came to me.' Mycroft drains his coffee cup. 'Where's Rene?'

'London. She was adopted to her new mother at the same time as me. Sophia's a consultant. She grew up with Jared for a time.' Jim glances at the clock. He offers Mycroft small smile. 'I've got a train to catch.'

'What are you doing here?'

'I'm running an errand for my father. He runs an import/export business. He's hoping to open an office in Oxford. You are obviously at university.'

'Which year?' Jim studies his brother

'Third.' Jim leans back grinning. 'Studying politics.' He sneers. 'Boring or what?'

'Philosophy, Politics and economics to be precise brother.' He huffs. 'It's rather quite interesting actually.' He smiles 'Well the politics and economics are. The philosophy not so much.' The two brothers stand and embrace. 'It is really good to see you Jimmy. If you ever want to see Mummy we never moved.' Mycroft moves swiftly over to the counter and pays for their drinks. He nods and smiles to his brother as he collects his notes. 'You've got a train, me a lecture.'

'Is this goodbye again?'

'How about au revoir, see you again?'

'Au revoir grand frère.' Mycroft chuckles and leaves the café heading back to his college. Jim sinks into his chair before leaping up and rushing out after his elder brother. 'Mycroft!' He calls and Mycroft turns back to look at him 'Happy Birthday.' Mycroft smiles broadly.

'It is now!' he calls back 'But would be even better for Sherlock and Rene to be here as well.' Mycroft turns and walks away. Jim watches him before turning in the opposite direction and heading for the train station. Both of them walk to their destinations deep in thought.


	9. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

_April 1999_

Irene stretches out on the couch in the sitting room. She snuggles into cushions yawning widely. Just as soon as she is on the verge of sleep the door bangs open and Sophia comes storming in. Irene groans and sits up to look over the top of the sofa. Her eyes widen as she takes in the state of Sophia's. She leaps up and dashes into the kitchen to fetch their first aid kit and to fetch the maid. She comes back carrying the first aid kit and the maid enters following her carrying a pile of clean clothes for Sophia. The maid places the clothes on the sofa and guides Sophia to sit down. Sophia hisses as she comes into contact with the fabric. Irene hovers holding the first aid kit. The maid takes it from her and deals with the lacerations on Sophia's face. 'What happened?'

'Who, you mean.' Irene's eyebrows rise. 'That new client, the one who insisted I go to his place,' Irene nods. It allowed the two of them to service different clients at the same time (and yes Irene is above the age of consent). 'I knew I shouldn't have made an exception for him.'

'He was very persuasive.' Irene counters.

'But my gut told me to ditch him but the money…' Sophia groans. 'It would have set me up for retirement.' Irene sighs heavily. 'What?'

'You've got years to go yet!'

'Rene dear, I'm 49. At the most I've got another five. And by that time you will have taken over the majority of our clients.'

'Who was he?' Sophia looks at Irene with a confused expression. 'The client?'

'The son of…' Sophia trails off

'Of who?' Irene asks tentatively.

'Victor Clay.' Irene and the maid gasp. 'Yes, the boy will claim it was self-defence and Victor hasn't got the best morals in the world.' Irene turns and runs upstairs. 'I hope she's going to pack.'

'Bex!' Irene's voice floats down the stair and into the sitting room. The maid, Bex, looks at Sophia.

'Go.' Bex rises from the floor and walks gracefully to answer Irene's call.

In her room Irene has piled plenty of clothes on her bed. Bex walks into the room and raises her eyebrows. Irene stops and looks at her. 'Don't look at me like that. Help me.' Bex starts folding the clothes form the bed as Irene drags a couple of suitcases from the back of her wardrobe. She look back wistfully at all the clothes she's leaving behind. 'I'll miss all of these.' She firmly closes the door. Bex packs all of the clothes inside the suitcases without complaint. Irene dashes out of her bedroom and into Sophia's. She does the same with Sophia's clothes piling them high on the bed. Sophia walks into her room and frowns at Irene's choice of clothing for her.

'Seriously?'

'Yes. If we have to hide then we have to be normal. At least for a time.'

'It'll be weird.' She looks at Irene. 'How long?'

'At first no clients for two or three months. Then we gradually work our way back to where we were.'

'No.' Irene pauses. 'You work your way back up. I'm retiring.'

'But-'

'My decision in final Rene.' Bex walks into the room and packs all the clothes from the bed into Sophia's suitcases. 'For you Rene this will be a mere holiday. Or a working one if you wish. There's enough money for me to live comfortable somewhere warm, for Bex here to run the house while you're away and for you to set yourself up in business in six to twelve months time.' Irene and Sophia glare at each other before Irene backs down and nods acceptance. 'Good, let's go get some sun.'

Sherlock runs into the woods near the back of his childhood home. He ducks under and behind some bushes and stays still in a crouched position shaking slightly. He closes his eyes and images of the four Pycroft lads fly in front of his irises. His eyes spring open. His mind goes back to the encounter that led Sherlock to be hiding in bushes. He had been walking in the woods gathering samples of leaves and soil beneath the tree canopies. He had been given the idea by talking to Mr Drake and Mrs Nelson. He had walked into a clearing and stumbled upon the four of them shooting drugs. The younger two boys were snorting lines of coke and of the other two, one had a tourniquet wrapped around his upper arm and was inserting a syringe into his vein and the other was untying his tourniquet. He had stared at them for a few moments before one of the younger boys had noticed that Sherlock was watching them. 'Get the freak.' The cry came. Sherlock turned and fled. All four of the boys chased him through the woods, and their drug induced haze they gained on him. In the bush, Sherlock hears the sounds of four pairs of footsteps thundering towards his position. He involuntary flinches as they pass. He breathes an internal sigh of relief. He clenches his fist not realising that he was still clutching the samples he had collected. He waits for a few moments more before creeping out of his hiding place and hastily walking back the way he had fled. _Thank you Mr Drake, Mycroft, for making sure I know every inch of these woods, thank you, thank you, thank you _he thinks making his way back to the main path running through the trees. Upon reaching the path a cry goes up. 'Found the freak!' Sherlock takes off again running down the path. Risking a glance back he sees that all four of the boys are a distance away and with a little bit of luck he can make it to Mr Drake's fence. He speeds up still clutching his samples. He bursts out of the woodland and sprints for the fence at the bottom of Mr Drake's garden. He places his hands on the top and springs over sliding down the other side to a rest where the fence stands upon the ground. He breathes heavily to regain control of his breathing. Moments later he hears the Pycroft boys leave the tree line and look around for him. They pass his hiding place and for the second time in an hour he breathes a sigh of relief.

In the sitting room of Mr Drake's house a young inspector watches as Sherlock leaps the fence at the bottom of the garden and slump at the bottom of it. He glances over at the door of the sitting room before returning his gaze to Sherlock. 'Mr Drake, sir?'

'Yes?' comes the reply.

'A boy has jumped the fence into your garden.'

'What's he doing?'

'Just sitting there.'

'Just sitting there is he?' Mr Drake shuffles into the room and looks out of the floor length windows. He laughs. 'That's just Sherlock. He and his brother use this place as a hideaway when they're hiding from bullies.' He heads back to his kitchen. 'Give it ten minutes and if he's still there call him in.' the young inspector watches Sherlock. After a few moments it seems like Sherlock knows that he is being observed he looks along the garden to the windows and the inspector feels like he makes eye contact with him. He watches Sherlock move carefully and stealthily along the width of the fence to the corner of the garden and he crawls his way down the length of the garden, keeping as low as possible. The inspector walks up to the windows and covertly watches Sherlock work his way down the garden. Sherlock taps on the glass and the inspector opens the windows to lets him in.

'Thank you.' Sherlock slides the window shut just as four boys jump up on the fence to look over. They hang there for a couple of moments before disappearing. The inspector looks down at Sherlock as he visibly relaxes. 'Just in time.' he mutters.

'Who were they?' Sherlock looks at the inspector.

'It doesn't matter.' He replies. 'Where's Mr Drake?' the inspector gestures to the door.

'Kitchen.' Sherlock walks through to the kitchen. The inspector follows.

'Mr Drake?' the old man turns.

'Sherlock, what happened?' Sherlock waves him off. 'I've got some samples for the experiment.'

'Species?'

'Oak.'

'Label them and put them in the refrigerator while you clean yourself up.' Sherlock gives him a genuine smile.

'Thank you Mr Drake.'

'You're fond of him.' The inspector remarks causing Mr Drake to smile. 'Who would have thought it? The formidable Chief Superintendent Drake, the man who gives no quarter, fond of a young lad.'

'I'm allowed to thaw out in my retirement, Inspector.' Sherlock re-enters the kitchen, clean and wearing fresh clothes. 'He stays here when his Mother has to travel for her job.' Mr Drake answers the inspector's unasked question. 'Sherlock, this is Inspector Gregory Lestrade of Scotland Yard. One of the most promising inspectors im my opinion.'

'Thank you sir.'

'Nice to meet you Inspector Lestrade, and thank you for letting me in.'

'The Pycrofts again?' The immediate tensing of Sherlock's muscles gives the retired and serving policemen the answer needed. Mr Drake sighs in annoyance. 'How's Mycroft surviving at University?'

'He would graduate today if he was given the chance to.' Sherlock glances up at the clock. 'Thanks for the help again Mr Drake, I've got to get back, Mummy wants me to go somewhere with her.'

'Give her my best Sherlock.'

'I will Mr Drake, good to meet you Inspector Lestrade.' Sherlock leaves the kitchen with Mr Drake watching him. He pokes his head through the door. 'I almost forgot, Mummy invites you to her birthday party next week. You two inspector if you're still here.'

'Tell her we'll be there, thank you Sherlock.'

The next day Sherlock creeps into the woods and makes his way silently and stealthily to the clearing the Pycrofts had occupied the previous day. He climbs a tree near the edge of the clearing and listens to the ambient noises of the woodland. Once he is certain that no one is coming he creeps into the clearing and carefully looks around. He spots a couple of used needles and a small bag containing white powder abandoned in the grass. Sherlock slips some latex gloves out of his pocket and slips them on his hands. He takes a see-through bag out of another pocket. He turns it inside out and uses it to pick up the needles and bag. He secures them in the bag by tying the top in a knot and scoots out of the clearing just at the two elder Pycroft boys enter the glade sniping at each other. 'It's got to be here somewhere.'

'I can't believe you lost it.'

'Shut it. Just look for it.' Sherlock slinks through the trees before reaching the main causeway through the forest and running the length of it towards the village. He heads home going by Mr Drake's house and he gives the drugs to the retired Chief Superintendent.


	10. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

_June 2001_

In his room Sherlock hurriedly packs a large duffel bag. He stuffs most of his clothes and most prised possessions. Namely a few of his science books, a pocket magnifying-glass, an engraved pen knife, a plain pen knife, a photograph of him, Violet and Mr Drake after an awards ceremony the previous year, a photo of Mycroft and him with Violet. He pulls the top of the bag shut at the same time as a knock sounds at the door. 'Lockie?' Sherlock freezes as Violet's voice floats through the door. 'Dinner in ten minutes.' Sherlock listens to Violet's footsteps head away from his door before returning. 'Is everything okay? Lockie?'

'It's fine.' Sherlock snaps. Sherlock relaxes as Violet retreats from the door and looks around his room. His gaze lands on his violin. He hesitates and glances at the door. Before he can make up his mind another knock sounds at the door. Sherlock scowls.

'Sherlock' Mr Drake's voice comes through. 'Your mother rang me.'

'She worries too much.'

'You've been hospitalised three times in the last four months. Each time the Pycroft boys have put you there. She's your mother she's aloud to worry. Let me in.' Sherlock picks up his bag. He carefully places in on the floor and slides it under his bed. He strides over to the door and opens it to let in his friend. Mr Drake casts his eyes over Sherlock's room. 'Where are you planning to go?'

'Who says I'm going anywhere?'

'Sherlock! I didn't become Chief Superintendent for nothing. Stop pretending that we're both stupid and tell me.' Sherlock shrugs.

'Dinner time.' Violet shouts from the kitchen. Mr Drake put his hand on Sherlock's shoulder.

'Wherever you're going you can wait until you've had dinner.' Sherlock glares at him but relents, nodding. He allows Mr Drake to lead him to the kitchen.

Three hours later finds Sherlock sitting in his room. Waiting. As the clock ticks towards midnight, Sherlock rises up from his position on the bed and pulls his bag from under the bed and slings it onto his back ignoring the violin. He leaves his room walking as quietly as possible. As he gets to the front door he pauses and looks up to his room. He silently removes his bag from his back and creeps back up the stairs. He re enters his room and looks around for his violin, bow and case. He locates each other them and lovingly places his violin and bow into the case before carefully and quietly shutting and locking the lid. He picks it up and vacates his room for the last time shutting the door. He steals back down the stairs and picks up his bag after putting his coat on. Securing the bag and gripping his violin case he opens the door to it's halfway point and exits the house making sure the door is closed and locked behind him.

As the sun rises over Hindhead Violet gets up and starts preparing breakfast for the two of them. She notes the time and calls for Sherlock. Hearing no reply from her son she walks up the stairs. She tentatively opens the door to Sherlock's room and finds empty. Looking around the room she notices that the violin has gone and have the few photos that decorated the walls. She panics, rushes out of the house and onto the street, nearly knocking over Mr Drake. 'Violet?'

'Sherlock, where is he?' Mr Drake grabs her arms and guides Violet back to her house.

'Sherlock has gone?' Violet nods dumbly. 'I'll call some people to look for him. Did he leave a note or anything?'

'I don't know.' She rises to look but Mr Drake stops her.

'I'll look.'

Mycroft heads to his desk after an early morning meeting. He yawns and stretches his back persuading his spine to realign. He yawns for a second time and reaches for a file to read through. He finishes reading the file and picks up another as the phone rings. 'Mycroft Holmes, how can I help?'

'Croft, it's Sherlock.' His mother's panicked voice filtered through the speaker.

'Sherlock?' Mycroft stiffens 'What has he done?'

'Croft…' Mycroft detects a sob.

'Violet, give me the phone.'

'Mycroft? It's Mr Drake.'

'Mr Drake, what's going on?'

'Sherlock has disappeared. Runaway it seems. I'm coming up to London on the next train. Can you meet me?'

'I can try but it's doubtful. I've got meetings all afternoon.'

'Try.' Mr Drake's voice comes through sharply. 'I'll be in London by nine.'

At eight fifty, Mycroft steps onto the platform at Waterloo and watches at the train draw into the station. Mr Drake spots Mycroft easily in the throng of commuters and he quickly makes his way over to him. 'Mr Drake.'

'Mycroft. You haven't been looking after yourself.' Mycroft grimaces.

'Any news on Sherlock?' he swiftly changes the subject.

'Left the house between midnight and six this morning. Last seen hitchhiking into Guildford. I've a couple of old contacts at Scotland Yard starting to look into it for me.'

'Pulling favours?'

'Something like that.' Mr Drake mutters. Mycroft guides him through the concourse and to a waiting car. Once they are safely ensconced in the car Mycroft looks at Mr Drake.

'There's something you aren't telling me.'

'Last night, I spoke to Sherlock and I thought that I had persuaded him to stay. Evidently not.' He finished with a wry smile.

'He is a Holmes Mr Drake. Stubborn, obnoxious and manipulative but absolutely charming and amenable when the need arises.' Mr Drake snorts. 'Did he give a reason for running?'

'Do you need me to answer that or can you?' Mycroft works the reason out in a matter of seconds.

'Ah.'

'Precisely.'

'The Pycroft boys.'

'Got it in one.'

'Scotland Yard sir.' The driver tells them. Inspector Lestrade opens the car door for Mycroft and Mr Drake to get out.

'Chief Superintendent Drake.'

'Lestrade, this is Mycroft Holmes, Sherlock's older brother.' The two younger men shake hands.

'Pleasure.'

'Likewise. Any leads?'

'A couple.' Lestrade closes the door and leads Mr Drake and Mycroft into the building.

They sit in the office of the current Chief Superintendent. Mycroft and MR Drake sit in the chairs while Lestrade perches on the desk in front of them. 'We have CCTV and eyewitness statements that shows your brother boarding a London bound train in Guildford.'

'But?'

'Not alighting at any of the station.'

'Is that possible?' Mr Drake asks

'It's difficult. But not impossible.' Mycroft answers. Lestrade glances at him sharply. 'I'm a very junior official for the government.'

'Does he know about surveillance techniques?' Lestrade enquires.

'Yes.' Mycroft answers dubiously. 'I taught him some but-'

'He's fairly proficient.'

'But there's a difference in avoiding schoolyard bullies and trained professionals.'

'Inspector, I taught him counter surveillance.' Mr Drake snaps. 'He has an outstanding memory and can retain virtually every fact and decipher any puzzle or challenge he sets his mind to. He knows how to lie low.'

'Sir?'

'What is it Mr Drake?'

'He's young, scared, vulnerable, impetuous and recalcitrant. Stubborn Lestrade.'

'There's no knowing what he could get up to.' The expressions on the faces of Mr Drake and Mycroft confirm Inspector Lestrade's suspicions.

'May I ask why did he run?'

'Remember when you met him? You said four boys looked over the top of my fence seconds after Sherlock had made it onto the house?' Lestrade nods.

'Those four boys have bullied both Sherlock and myself since they moved to Hindhead in 1991. We have both been hospitalised by them multiple times.'

'It got worse for Sherlock after you left for University. The attention of all four of them was focused on him and him alone.'

'Haven't the local forces done anything about it?'

'We all know what happens, who does it so on and so forth but the Pycroft boys are smart as well as vicious. They never do anything when witnesses are near.' Mycroft snorts.

'I wouldn't call the elder two smart. The younger two, Tom and Jerry, have the brains of that family.'


	11. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

_August 2002_

Irene leans back in her seat as the plan begins its descent into Heathrow airport. She sighs and looks out of the window next to her seat. She shifts uncomfortably as the overweight person next to her spills over the armrest separating them and into the space of her seat. She recoils and pulls a distasteful expression. The man shifts in his sleep and Irene lets out a disdainful snort. He wakes up and places a hand on her leg. She pushes it off and crosses her legs, angling her body away from him.

Thirty minutes later Irene is still sitting in her seat on the plane but the man next to her has gone. She breathes deeply to calm herself and watches as everyone slowly makes their way off the place onto the tarmac. As the line dwindles Irene finally stirs from the uncomfortable position and stands retrieving her hand luggage from the racks above her head. She follows everyone off the plane and makes sure there is a space between her and the rest of the passengers as she walks across the tarmac to the arrivals gate. She collects her luggage with out any hassle and makes her way to the exit. She scans the people waiting for their loved ones. She spots a notice held by a young women only a couple of years older than her. _Irene_ _Adler_. Irene pauses looking at the woman before heading over. 'And you are?'

'Katherine Silverton, Miss Adler. I am here on behalf of Rebecca Stover.'

'Bex sent you?'

'Yes Miss Adler.' Katherine answers as she summons a porter to carry Irene's suitcases to the car. As the porter loads the suitcases into a black Aston Martin Vanquish, Katherine opens the rear passenger side door for Irene to climb in.

'Thank you.' Irene hands Katherine a twenty-pound note and glances at the porter. Kate takes it and gives it to the porter before seating herself in the driver's seat.

It takes the two women forty minutes to drive from the airport to the house that Irene and Sophia had abandoned three years previously. Katherine pulls the car up out side the house. Bex opens the house door and walks out to the car. She opens the car door for Irene to step out. Irene embraces the older woman. 'It's good to see you Bex. It's been a long time.'

'Yes, it has Rene dear.' Bex smiles at the teenager. 'Kate bring the suitcases in and place them in the back bedroom. That was Irene's old bedroom.' Bex puts an arm around Irene's shoulders and guides her into the house. Kate follows carrying the lighter of the two suitcases and places it just inside the front door. She returns to the car for the second suitcase and places it on the ground by the car. She closes the boot and locks the car. She picks up the suitcase and carries it into the house closing the front door firmly behind her. Inside the house Bex has seated Irene in the sitting room and has started pumping her for details of the three years, three months, three weeks three days they had spent apart. Irene tells her everything from the overweight buffoon on the flight into London to the little house on the beach on the Costa Rican coast looking out onto the Pacific Ocean.

'Quite the little traveller, aren't you?' Bex comments as Kate enters the sitting room with a fresh pot of tea. 'Thank you Kate.' Irene smiles her thanks as she accepts a cup and saucer. She takes a sip and sighs in ecstasy.

'I haven't had a decent cup of tea in a long time.'

'What are you going to do about the reason for you leaving?' Irene looks at Bex over her teacup.

Jim opens the door to his study and heads over to the monitor-laden desk. He seats himself in front of them and turns them on. A knock sounds at the door causing him to look up. Jared enters the study and walks around to stand behind him watching every keystroke that Jim makes. 'How's taking over the empire going?'

'As well as it can.' Jim twists in his seat. 'Where are you planning on going?'

'I think I will find our old acquaintance Sophia Adler and move in with her.'

'Jaco, Pacific coast, Costa Rica.'

'I already knew that Jimbo. Thank you very much. How much longer until it's complete?'

'A year for you to relinquish all the control you wish. Another year to accentuate my control in your place, two years at the maximum for me to rise to the very top of the British criminal scene after that. Before finally another two years to be top of the European scene and high in the American scene. All extra time after sees me rising, rising, rising.'

'And maybe getting an opponent or two along the way.'

'One who will match our intellects?' Jim scoffs. 'Yeah right.'

'Don't get too big headed Jim.' Jared warns him. Jared glances at one of the screens. He points to a half-written email. 'Who's that to?'

'Irene. She emailed me to find out the whereabouts of John Clay, the son of the late Victor Clay.'

'What happened?' Jared moves and sits himself on a comfy chair placed just behind Jim.

'John beat Sophia up. He told his father it was self defence and Victor put out a contract on both Sophia's and Irene's lives.'

'Good job we got rid of the elder Clay then.' Jim spins in his chair chuckling to face his father. His eyes glint maliciously. 'What?'

'I neglected to follow that part of your order. He's still alive. Just.' Jared leans forward leaning on his fists. 'He's in semi permanent agony in a deep dark basement with no hope whatsoever of seeing daylight again. I reckon he'll last another month at the most. The least we can do is allow his son to join him when he's in such horrendous agony. After my maleficent sister has had her way with him.' Jim spins back round in his chair and types a few commands into his keyboard. He reaches for a phone and dials a number switching on to speakerphone.

'Hello?' Kate's voice fills the room.

'Kate, it's Jimmy.' Jim's voice is sickly sweet. 'Would you bring Rene to the phone?

'Jimmy for Rene.' Jim and Jared listen to the excited squeal of Irene as she hears Kate's announcement.

'Jimmy! So nice of you to call.'

'No need to squeal sister dear.'

'Drop the sickly voice Jimmy, I know you better than that.' Jim's changes the tone of his voice to his Irish drawl.

'Better?'

'Much. Well what do you have?'

'So abrupt, sister dear. Expect a small package by the end of the day. Of it's on the house and with my compliments. You have an appointment as detailed in an email I'm about to send. Take your time with him but ring the number in the package once you've finished. My men will pick him up.'

'Jimmy, Jimmy, Jimmy, you haven't. It's all for me.'

'Yes Rene, enjoy.'

'And give our regards to your mother.' Jared interjects. Jim aborts the call imagining the look on his twin sister's face. He smiles contentedly.


	12. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

_January 2004_

Mycroft sits at his desk and reads some papers from a number of folders scattered around his desk. His new assistant enters the room and hands him his new mobile phone. He glances through the pre-saved numbers in the contacts list. He stops of one of numbers. He raises his eyebrow at her. 'Sherlock?'

'CCTV shows that your brother has acquired a mobile phone. We have managed to track him down to a flat in Erith.'

'Why wasn't I informed of this?' the assistant hesitates, 'Well?'

'Your superiors needed you to focus on governmental affairs.' Mycroft's desk phone rings stopping him from retorting.

'Mycroft Holmes.' Mycroft glares at his assistant. 'Yes, thank you. I'll be there within the hour.' The assistant hovers nervously

'Mr Holmes?'

'Is there something else you wanted to tell me Anthea?' she fails to make eye contact with him.

'Your brother has affiliated with undesirables.'

'What kind of undesirables?'

'Drug addicts. Cocaine.' She tells him reluctantly. Mycroft rises from his seat and walks around his desk to his window.

'Where is he now?' Anthea swallows in attempt to hide her nervousness of this formidable man. If she had had any doubt as to why and how he rose to a semi-senior office in the government in three years, it was all gone now. She glances up at him standing at window.

'We don't know.' He turns slowly to look at her.

'You don't know?' He picks up his coat and umbrella. 'It's a good job I do isn't it?'

'Sir?'

'Let me tell you something Anthea. Never withhold information from me, especially when it concerns my little brother.' Mycroft holds her gaze coldly. She involuntary shivers. He ignores it and strides to the door. 'Clear my calendar for the rest of the day. Bring me a car to take me to Scotland Yard.' He strides out of his office leaving her almost helpless in his wake. She pulls herself together and makes the necessary calls as she hurries to catch up with him.

Thirty minutes later, the car carrying Mycroft and Anthea pulls up outside the front door of Scotland Yard. Anthea quickly opens the door and holds it for Mycroft to exit the car. He nods his thanks but otherwise ignores her. He walks into the building as Anthea closes the car door and scurries after him. She catches up with him as he approaches the front desk. 'Mycroft Holmes. I was called on behalf of Sherlock Holmes.'

Sherlock sits in the holding cell with his head in his hands. He listens to the various footsteps walking along the corridor on the other side of the doors. He hears a set he recognises. He groans and lies down on the bench. Each sound reverberates inside his skull making his headache worse. His stomach turns as he shifts on the bench. The lock clicks back on the door to the cell. A uniformed police officer stands in the doorway. Sherlock groans and puts a hand over his eyes to block out the extra light entering the cell from the corridor. 'Name please?' Sherlock mumbles an answer with his hand still over his eyes. 'Pardon?'

'Sherlock Holmes.' he mumbles louder. He groans again, rolls over and vomits onto the floor of the cell. The officer flinches as the contents of Sherlock's stomach are making themselves known to the floor of the cell.

'Jesus.'

'Don't blaspheme.' The officer glares at Sherlock. 'Your pendant. It's a crucifix.' The officer's hand automatically goes to the chain hanging around her neck and grips the pendant. The officer retreats closing the door behind as she leaves. Sherlock starts shaking as the withdrawal symptoms kick in. He slumps back onto the bench and shaking wracks through his thin frail body. The door open and the officer reappears carrying cleaning equipment. He cleans up the puddle of vomit. 'What's the date?' Sherlock mumbles.

'Pardon?'

'I said what's the date?'

'Fourth of January, two thousand and four.' Sherlock groans heavily. 'What's wrong?'

'Not yet my birthday.'

'How old are you?'

'Seventeen. Eighteen in two weeks.' Sherlock groans again.

'It's not too long until your birthday then.'

'Oh great!' Sherlock says sarcastically, 'Two weeks of Mycroft interfering.'

'Who Mycroft?'

'My brother.' The officer finishes cleaning the puddle of sick and rises carrying the supplies. He leaves the room locking the door behind him.

_Eighteen month earlier_

_Sherlock steps off the train and makes his way though the station in the middle of the crowds making sure that he is covered from all CCTV camera by other people. He slips through the ticket barriers immediately behind another person. He strides out of the station and into the street. He darts into an alley at the first opportunity. He glances around and makes his way through the alleys of London avoiding the areas with heavy CCTV coverage. He wonders around for a few hours before he stumbles over someone on the ground. 'Sorry' he mutters. _

'_Runaway?' A man emerges from a nearby doorway. _

'_So what?' Sherlock snarls._

'_Wan' somefing to take the edge off?'_

'_Take the edge off what?'_

'_Cold, hunger, fear.' Sherlock stares at him judging the sincerity._

'_What have you got?'_

'_Cocaine, heroin, ecstasy, cannabis plus a few others.' Sherlock stares at him. The man on the floor reaches up to grab the dealer. 'Not you.' the dealer snarls he looks at Sherlock. 'Coming kid?'_

'_Sherlock.' Sherlock follows him inside the building. _

_Six months later_

_Sherlock walks the streets of London carrying a large quantity of cocaine in his pockets and a daily paper under his arm. He heads to one of the large parks in the centre of London to meet one of the street dealers who work for the man who picked him off the street. He spots the man sitting on one of the park benches. He joins them on the bench and opens his paper. He secretly slips the packets of cocaine powder into the middle of the pages. He folds the paper up and drops in onto the seat between himself and the street dealer. He stands and walks away leaving the drugs hidden in the paper on the seat. Out of the corner of his eye he watches the street dealer take the paper with the drugs and leave another with money hidden inside. The dealer stands and walks away abandoning the paper with the money on the seat. Sherlock retakes his seat on the bench. After a few moments he picks up the paper and checks the contents under the pretext of reading an article. He tucks the paper under his arm and walks out of the park and back to the flat. _

_Sherlock enter the flat and hands over the paper to his landlord and dealer. Sherlock heads into the kitchen of the flat and fixes a cup of tea for the both of them. He walks back into the main living room and the dealer pushes a small bag across the table to Sherlock. ''Appy birthday, today i's on the 'ouse.' Sherlock smiles and takes the baggie. He quickly makes up a seven percent solution injects a third of the solution into his arm. 'Better?' Sherlock nods in a happy cocaine induced daze._

The door of the cells opens and the officer re-appears. He leans on the frame of the door and watches Sherlock shiver and shake in the cell. 'How are you feeling?'

'Bugger off.' He mutters. The officer steps into the cell and pulls Sherlock to his feet.

'Come on you're wanted in the interview room.' The police officer half drags and half supports Sherlock towards the interview room. As the officer opens the door Sherlock groans and attempts to get away. 'Nope, you aren't going anywhere young man.'

'Come in little brother.' Mycroft is sat at the table. 'Mummy wants an update.'

'Piss off Mycroft.' Sherlock grumbles. Sherlock slumps in the seat next to Mycroft.

'Just so you know, Mummy doesn't know about your drug habit, but Mr Drake does.'

'Piss off Mycroft.' Sherlock places his head on the table. Mycroft move the cup in front of him across the table to Sherlock.

'Drink it'll help.' Sherlock groggily downs the water in a couple of gulps.

'What do you want Mycroft?'

'Possession with intent… not what you want on your record little brother.'


	13. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

_March 2004_

Jim sits under an arch in London wearing scraggy clothes watching all the people walking past. He spots the person he's looking for. He pulls himself up and follows the man. The man pauses for a split second and speeds up slightly. Jim grins and adjusts his pace accordingly. The man darts into an alley and Jim strolls after him periodically hoisting the baggy trousers to keep himself from tripping over the bottoms. Jim enters the alley and walks down it. As he passes the halfway point a figure steps out behind him and whacks him over the back of the head.

Irene sits up in her bed and rubs the back of her head wincing. Kate walks in carrying a pile of freshly laundered clothes. 'Are you okay?' Irene frowns still rubbing the back of her head. Kate carefully places the pile of clothes on the top of a chest of drawers. She climbs onto the bed and gently probes the back of Irene's skull. 'There's nothing there. No bump, no broken skin, no blood.' Kate shuffles back and Irene leans against the headboard.

'So why does it hurt?'

'I don't know Miss Rene.' Irene smiles weakly and sighs.

'I think I may as well get up.' Irene shuffles herself off of the bed and stands reaching for her favourite dressing gown.

Jim wakes up slowly tied to a chair. He keeps his eyes closed and uses his other senses to work out where he is. He flexes his wrist working out that its rope binding his wrists to the arms of the chairs. He rotates his ankles confirming that his legs are also bound to the chair. He attempts to breathe deeply but feels that his chest is restricted by rope in addition to his arms and legs. 'I know you are awake.' A voice reverberates in his head. Jim opens his eyes and looks at his captor. He grins.

'Worth a shot.' Jim makes eye contact with the ex-soldier. 'One time it worked for three days straight. I was so bored. It was far too easy. Got all the information I needed and got out.'

'You won't get past me.'

'You sure about that?' The Soldier leans forward to glare at Jim.

'Positive.' Jim snorts with derision. 'Problem?'

'Yeah, I need to stretch.' Jim stands up all of the ropes just falling away. The eyes of the soldier bulge as he watches Jim rise.

'How? What?' The soldier is lost for words. Jim sighs.

'Oh please… don't be predictable.' Jim steps out of his rope bindings. 'Captain Sebastian Moran, a first class sniper serving in both Iraq and Afghanistan, dishonourable discharge from the army six months ago.' Jim fishes a piece of paper out of his pocket and reads from it. 'For failing to obey orders it says here. Been on the streets for three weeks now for failing to keep up with rent. Estranged from your family, only mother and younger sister living. Money-'

'Who are you?' Sebastian Moran growls

'The name's Moriarty.'

'You are Jared Moriarty?' Sebastian looks at Jim. 'No, you're Jim.' Jim smiles.

'Yup.' He looks around at the room. 'Is this where you live?'

'What about it?' Sebastian growls. 'Its secluded, dry and free.'

'But it's filthy.' Jim makes eye contact with Sebastian. 'Can we relocate to my flat. We can talk in comfort then.' Jim smiles a smile that sits somewhere between evil and kind. Sebastian stands and opens the door. He gestures for Jim to walk through.

'I want you in front of me. I don't trust you.'

Forty minutes later, Sebastian is reclining on a very expensive sofa, watching a large screen TV in Jim's living room. Jim enters the room having changed into his favourite suit and settles himself into his armchair. He reclines it and settles. Sebastian glances at him before fully looking at him. Jim watches him out of the corner of his eye. 'I know I look completely different. Does it worry you?'

'Why would it worry me?' Sebastian attempts nonchalance. Jim smiles 'Ok, yes it did unnerve me.'

'This is the real me.' Jim pauses 'or rather the me you will get to see. I'm the commanding officer, the boss of England, the emperor of Europe. Well, nearly for the latter. That's where you come in. if you want the job.'

'What job?'

'I need a platinum-class sniper. A sniper that's better than first class.' Jim leans forward and makes eye contact with Sebastian 'Are you that sniper?' Sebastian smirks.

'Yes I am.'

'Good. I like you, Sebastian. I didn't want to kill you.' Jim rises and walks over in front of Sebastian. He reaches behind Sebastian's head. Sebastian flinches. 'Relax.' Jim gingerly pulls a small needle from the lining of the sofa. Sebastian glares at him. Jim smirks.

Irene walks into her closet and runs her hand along the hangers. She reaches the back of the wardrobe. She turns and faces her current and former maids with a forlorn expression. 'I need more clothes.' Kate looks slightly bewildered but Bex smirks.

'Which kind, every day or slinky?' she asks. Irene purses her lips.

'Both.' She looks at her clothes. 'I'm getting out of fashion.' Bex bursts out laughing. 'I have none of this season's fashions.' She pouts. 'But I don't.'

'I'm not laughing at you chuck.' Bex walks forwards and grabs hold of Irene's arms and hands. 'I'm really not. It strange how much you really are like Sophia the two of you could have been blood relatives.' Irene smiles and Bex embraces her. 'Come on Chuck, lets go shopping.'

'What's the budget?' Kate asks. Irene ponders for a matter of seconds.

'Ten.'

'Ten thousand, okay. Let's go and hit the shops.' Irene and Bex link arms and walk out of the closet. They pause for Irene to link her other arm in Kate's and together they head out to the car and off to the very expensive specialist clothing shops. All three of them grin like maniacs.


	14. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

_July 2007_

Sebastian and Jim walk through Trafalgar square, Sebastian walking a couple of paces behind his employer. In just over three years since taking on Sebastian as a platinum-class sniper Jim has risen to become the most influential criminal in Europe. As Jim rose in the European criminal ranks, Sebastian has risen from just being just a lowly sniper to being the right-hand man of England's top criminal mind. Jim indicates a solitary man sitting next to the one of the lion statues at the base of Nelson's Column. Sebastian glances over and commits every detail of the man's face to his memory. Jim makes his way to a nearby café he takes a seat at a table basking in the sunshine. Sebastian walks past him into the interior of the café. Minutes later, he emerges carrying two steaming cups. He sets one down in front of Jim and takes a seat opposite him employer and, dare he say it, friend. 'Who is he?'

'Alexander Joseph Parker.' Jim reaches into his pocket and takes out his pocket book. He removes a photograph and slides it across the table to Sebastian. 'He has failed to pay the last instalment of his fee for me to remove certain members of his family.'

'The Pargeter case?' Jim smirks nodding. 'Have the police got anywhere with that case yet?' Jim's smirk grows

'Nope.' Sebastian's eyes sparkle.

'How much?'

'He owes me five. You'll get seven before and five upon completion.' Sebastian nods.

'That payment being paid by him?' Jim nods.

'Then shot him.' Sebastian drains his drink and rises.

Sherlock stumbles along the shoreline of the Thames. As he looks around at the river and road above him, he neglects to notice that further along his route has been blocked off by the police. As he totters nearer he half recognises the inspector in charge of the scene. He lurches closer and peers closely at the scene. The inspector turns and spots Sherlock lurching towards the taped off scene. He ducks under the tape and catches Sherlock as he over balances and teeters into the tape. 'Watch it mate. You can't come down here.' Sherlock mumbles something unintelligible. 'What was that mate?'

'I'm not your mate.' The inspector maneuverers Sherlock into a sitting position near the tape. Sherlock narrows his eyes at the scene. 'That's a murder.' He drawls

'What?'

'The chair, it's the wrong side.'

'Go on, how can you tell?' Inspector asks in spite of himself.

'He was hanged in the exact centre of the arch. His left leg is slightly shorter than his right. Meaning the chair would have tipped our side rather than the opposite.' The inspector looks back at the scene with a critical eye. He stands and ducks back under the tape and looks closer at the body. He heads back to Sherlock.

'Alright who did it?' He asks Sherlock half-joking.

'Did he have a picture in his pocket?'

'Is there a picture is his pocket?' The inspector shouts over at the other officers.

'Yes. She's a cutie.' The inspector looks down at Sherlock.

'Her new boyfriend.' Sherlock squints. 'No, her previous one. Jealous lover.' The inspector darts towards the tape and issues a couple of orders to find out about the dead man's girlfriend. Sherlock looks up at the inspector. 'Can I have my arch back now?' The inspector looks down closely at Sherlock's face.

'Sherlock?' Lestrade asks dubiously.

'Lestrade?' Sherlock groans groggily. Lestrade squats down in front of him.

'Sherlock listen to me, I know you love solving puzzles of any sort. You've just helped solve a case. But if you still want to help me you have to stay off the drugs. You have to stay clean.'

'Why?' Sherlock whines 'I need it to quiet the noise.'

'What noise?'

'The noise in my brain.' Lestrade sighs.

Irene walks into her sitting room and collapses onto her sofa. In the armchair sits Bex gloriously enjoying her retirement. 'What's up chuck?' Irene rubs her face with both of her hands.

'Oh nothing.' Bex chuckles.

'Chuck, I've known you fifteen years. I know when's something is wrong.'

'Nostalgia. It's nearly twenty years since Jimmy and I were separated from our big and little brothers. I'm just wondering whether I'll ever see them again.'

'Do you miss them?'

'To be honest I barely remember them.'

'What do you remember?'

'Playing in my room with all three of my brothers after creeping to the top of the stairs with Jimmy when I heard Mummy and Daddy shouting in the kitchen. Mykey took us back to our room and brought Sherlock in. We played for a time until Mummy came and got us for Breakfast.' Irene reminisces. 'Before that, I remember being at the hospital with Jimmy and Mycroft waiting for Daddy to arrive. We didn't know that Sherlock had already been born. When Daddy arrived he lifted each of us up so we could see baby Sherlock.' Irene's face drops.

'What?' Bex asks.

'I also remember the day Daddy took Jimmy and me away. The pain and grief. The sadness when we thought that we would never see Mummy again.' Tears roll down Irene's cheeks. Bex moves from the armchair to the sofa to cuddle the young woman.

'Tell me.'

_July 1986_

_Irene and Jim haul their cases down the stairs to the front haul. Mycroft runs in from the kitchen and takes the luggage from them. He carries it out to their father's car. The twins watch him. Mycroft sets the cases at Siger's feet and walks back into the house. He takes a hand of each of the twins in his own and takes them into the kitchen where Violet was standing at a counter and the baby Sherlock in his highchair. Their mother had made their favourite foods. Once all four of the children had finished their breakfasts Siger enters the kitchen and demands that they should be going. Siger storms back out when Violet snaps at him. She kneels in front of Jim and Irene and gives them both an early birthday present. To Irene, Violet gives a handmade embroidered bag and purse to remind her that Violet will always lover her. Jim is given a similar gift but his is a pocket book cover and wallet. The twins embrace their mother tearfully. Violet stands up and takes Sherlock out of his highchair. She gives him to Jim and he cuddles his little brother. Irene takes Sherlock off Jim and cuddles him as well. Violet retrieves him and Mycroft draws his brother and sister into a huge embrace. The three siblings hug before Irene and Jim reluctantly walk out to the car. Siger straps them in and climbs into the driving seat. 'Stop snivelling.' He snaps back at them as he drives off._

Mycroft leaves from his desk after a hard day of paperwork, meetings and planning operations. He stretches his back and retrieves his umbrella, briefcase and coat. He slips his coat on as he walks and clocks out for the night. He walks out of the front doors of his office building and spots a vaguely familiar figure loitering near the door. He looks at the figure out of the corner of his eye as he notices that the man is making his way towards him. The connections click in his mind. A newly promoted Detective Inspector Lestrade. He mentally slaps himself for being so slow. 'Detective Inspector, to what do I owe the pleasure?'

'Your brother turned up at a crime scene completely off his head.' Lestrade pauses for a moment. 'Well I say turned up. He sort of stumbled over it. It turns out that he'd been bedding down in the arch where an apparent suicide had hanged himself-' Lestrade starts babbling.

'Mr Lestrade, shall we continue this in my car.' Mycroft interrupts smoothly s his car pulls nearby. Lestrade nods and the two of them climb in.

'Thank you.'

'What has my little brother been up to?' Mycroft restarts their conversation once the car has pulled away.

'He stumbled along the footpath that runs below the embankment and almost fell over onto the tape cordoning the area off. I caught him and sat him down, then he rattled off a number of reason why the body wasn't suicide but murder then told me who did it.' Lestrade looks out of the window.

'And?'

'Well it saved from having egg on my face. I told him if he wanted to help out on crime scenes he would have to get clean and stay clean.'

'What did he say to that?'

'That he needed the drugs to stop the noise in his head.' Lestrade sighs. 'I pointed out that Mr Drake had told me that as a youngster he had loved any sort of puzzles.' Lestrade makes eye contact with Mycroft. 'When he looked around the scene I saw a gleam in his eye. And it wasn't from the drugs. He couldn't resist making the connections.' Mycroft lifts his eyebrows.

'Why are you telling me things I already know?'

'So you already know he volunteered to be locked up in the holding cells of Scotland Yard to detox for three weeks?' Mycroft openly stares at Lestrade who watches London speed past smirking.


	15. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

_May 2009_

Irene sits in a small independent coffee shop enjoying a large cup of very expensive coffee and a plate of various small pastries. She looks around the small establishment and takes in all of the clientele deciding whether or not each person could be a potential client. A gentleman enters walking tall. She runs her eyes over him and deciding that although this one is wealthy he would not be susceptible to her charms. She mentally shrugs, _his loss_ she thinks. She looks him over again, _government employee, not a limelight boy; unmarried – married to work; close to mother; constantly worries about sibling; incredibly neat – obsessively so; only slightly older than me… I know him… who is he…Mycroft? _She jumps as the gentleman interrupts her thought processes. 'Rene?' The voice interrupts as she recognises him. She smiles warmly at him.

'Mykey. Have a seat.' Mycroft sinks into the seat opposite her.

'Should you be eating them in your line of work?'

'I'm aloud to splurge every now and again, big brother.' Mycroft nicks a pastry from her plate and slips it into his mouth. She playfully slaps his hand. 'Cheeky.'

'How have you been little sister?'

'Since when?' Mycroft spreads his hands aimlessly.

'Since you came back into the country, since we were separated, since you were adopted, since Father died, take your pick.'

'Father?' Mycroft's expression hardens he hesitates before replying. When he does his tone is icy, Irene shudders.

'When he left Mummy, he had had a series of successive mistresses. Haven't you ever wondered why Father was so late getting to the hospital when Sherlock was born?'

'Mykey, I was a toddler.' She leans forward frowning. 'Although now you mention it something was off. I think I just ignored it not fully understanding it.'

'I had noticed it. When he smiled it didn't reach his eye like it did when we held you and Jimmy.' Mycroft chuckles at the memory.

'What?'

'When you and Jim were born, I was sat on Mummy's hospital bed given you to hold. As soon as you were laid in my arms Jimmy started squalling.'

'Protective from birth.' Irene giggles. 'That's Jimmy all over. He still is.' Mycroft smiles.

'On the day Sherlock was born, when you and Jimmy were pestering Father for information about Sherlock I went and sat and thought about everything.'

'You expected the break up didn't you?' Mycroft nods. 'I remember you asking Mummy whether or not Daddy was leaving.'

'I knew something was wrong with their marriage. Daddy had been spending more and more time away from Mummy and us.' Mycroft sighs and swiftly changes the subject. 'Did Jimmy ever tell you that he and I met up in Oxford?'

'For your twentieth?' Mycroft smiles broadly.

'He told you then.'

'Yeah, he said that you wished that both me and Lockie to be with the two of you'

'Did he tell you anything else?'

'Does Sherlock really remember us?' Mycroft grins at her conspiratorially.

'He wouldn't admit it but yes. He has described your four year old selves a number of times.' He sighs sadly. 'Mummy told me to tell him that it was his imagination, not any family members.'

'That's a shame.' Mycroft's phone goes off signalling an incoming text message. He looks at the screen but ignores it. She raises her eyebrow at him. 'Shouldn't you answer that?'

'Probably but it's not important.'

'Really?' she narrows her eyes at him, 'Sherlock.'

'Why would you think that?' Mycroft's phone rings.

'Answer it. I want to hear his voice.' Mycroft clicks the button to stop the ringing. He rises and extends his hand to his younger sister. She looks at her brother confused.

'The privacy of my car, we won't be disturbing everyone else.' She smiles and follows him out of the coffee shop. As soon as they are settled in the car Mycroft's phone rings again. He switches it to speakerphone. 'Hello brother.'

'Who's your girlfriend?'

'Excuse me?'

'Don't play dumb Mycroft. It doesn't suit you. Who is she?'

'I don't know what you're on about Lockie.' Irene stifles a giggle and Mycroft's eyes sparkle with glee.

'Don't call me Lockie.' Sherlock voice growls out of the speaker. 'Who is she?' Mycroft opens his mouth to reply. 'Don't try to fob me off. I've been watching you talk with her for over half an hour and now you're sitting with her in your car.'

'How do you know that she doesn't work in my office?'

'Wearing Alexander McQueen? Pull the other one Mycroft.' Mycroft aborts the call and looks at his sister.

'Where do you want to be dropped?'

'Shaftesbury Theatre, please.' Mycroft taps on the screen dividing them from the driver.

Sherlock watches the car pull away from the coffee shop. He grins, knowing that he had won that round of their feud. He turns and walks in the opposite direction to the car. He put his phone in his pocket and strolls along the pavement his hand tucked behind his back. Out of the corner of his eye he spots the drug dealer who had taken him in when he was fifteen and introduced him to the drug scene. The dealer watches him. Sherlock strolls past and effectively ignoring both the dealer and the temptation to head across to him and shoot his veins full of seven percent solution. As he contemplates the temptation his phone rings. He pulls it out and glances at the screen. Lestrade. He grins. 'Hello? Yes of course. Perfect timing… what course not… I was getting bored.' Without sparing the drug dealer another glance Sherlock hails a taxi rubbing his hands with glee and smiling broadly. Yes he had found something better than cocaine and thank you Lestrade for the opportunities not saying that he would actually admit it to anyone.

Jim pushes himself from the computer and rubs his eyes. He had been staring at CCTV footage from the coffee shop where Mycroft and Irene had met and talked. He smiled at the thought that maybe just maybe he and all three of his siblings could get back together and become a family group. Don't get him wrong he loves creating all these puzzles and making people dance to his tune. But sometimes he gets a little yearning for the life he could have had. He sighs. 'Boss?' Sebastian walks into the room. Jim taps a few keys and the window showing the CCTV footage disappears and looks up at his second in command.

'What do you want?'

'Wondered whether you would be turning in any time soon?'

'Why would I?' He glances at his very expensive Rolex watch. 'It's two in the afternoon.'

'You've been awake for…' Sebastian also looks at his watch. 'Sixty six hours straight with no rest.'

'I'll sleep for twenty four hours in six hours time.' Sebastian sighs but leaves the room. Jim grins and reopens the window. He follows Sherlock as he strolls along the pavement and takes a call before hailing a taxi. 'I'm coming to get you little brother. You're meddling in my affairs. See you soon.'


	16. Epilogue

Epilogue

_After the fall_

Mycroft sits in his chair in the Diogenes Club. He closes his paper and steeples his fingers under his chin. He sighs deeply and leans back in his chair. He abandons all the papers on the table next to his chair, rises and swiftly leaves the club. He heads home and collapses at his table. His post box rattles jerking him out of his reverie. He listens carefully and glances at his pocket watch and the box rattles again. He glances up at the grandfather clock. He frowned in confusion; the post shouldn't be coming at this time. He stiffly regains his feet and ambles over to the door. Two letters were lying on the mat. He looks around for his servants. He picks both of the letters up and examines the handwriting. He doesn't recognise them but regardless he carries the two of them into the sitting room and sits in a comfy armchair. Placing the letters on a coffee table he pours himself a liberal amount of brandy. He opens the letters and chuckles. In the first letter he finds a picture of Irene dated after her supposed death in Karachi. _Oh Rene! Clever Rene. Sherlock saved you after all did he but does he know why he did? _Mycroft muses silently. He opens the letter.

'Mykey, I'm sure that you had worked out that I might had actually survived the terrorist cell in Pakistan and that Lockie did save me. I want to stay in contact on the back of the enclosed photo is my new number. Jimmy is in charge of delivering this to you my favourite big brother. Rene.' Mycroft chuckles at the simple letter from his only sister, secretly glad that she survived. He puts the photo and letter back into the envelope and turns his attention to the second one. He opens it and a small photo of Jim falls out onto the carpet. Mycroft leans forward and picks it up. On a whim, he turns to look at the back and he recognises the string of numbers written there as a telephone number. _So you also survived Jim Jimmy Jim, why did you sell your little brother to that __**journalist**__? _He reads the letter.

'Mykey, I guess you are probably trying to work out why I sold Lockie out the Riley woman.' Mycroft chuckles. 'I wanted to know whether he would stay loyal to the family name and whether the doctor would stay loyal. I know, I know, it's a rubbish reason. Whether you believe me or not I care about Lockie and I didn't actually want him to jump. I expected him to check my pulse but he didn't. I was getting bored. I wanted a way out of the criminal world and I couldn't see it any other way do it. I hoped that he would have had a plan to get around it. I'm sorry Mykey. I hope you want to stay in contact so I've enclosed my brand new number on a photo. I want you to have something of mine regardless of whether or not you want me. I love you Mykey and I want to be your little brother. Rene wanted me to send you her letter and I never did until now. I was reluctant. But here they both are.' Mycroft puts the photo and letter back into the envelope.

Behind him Mycroft hears a soft tread on the floorboards. 'Hello Lockie.' Sherlock walks into the room and collapses into a chair on the opposite side of the fire to Mycroft. He spots the opened envelopes on the coffee table in from of Mycroft. He narrows his eyes. He lunges forwards and snatches the letters. 'Yes Lockie you may read my mail.' Sherlock opens both of the envelopes into his lap. He picks up the photos of Irene and Jim.

'Irene and Moriarty, what? Why?' Sherlock stares at Mycroft. 'You betrayed me. You are in league with them. You work for my enemy.' Mycroft sigh

'He isn't you enemy Sherlock not really. Your real enemy died when you were a toddler.' Sherlock looks Mycroft critically. 'Read the letters. You felt that you had to save Irene didn't you. But you didn't fully understand why.' Sherlock reluctantly nods as he opens the letters.

Ten minutes later Sherlock lays down the letters. Mycroft takes them off his little brother. 'I don't understand.' Sherlock looks at his brother in confusion and loss

'Tell me about your dream, the one with the twins.'

'I'm a baby lying on the floor. A boy and girl are playing with me…' he trails off and looks at the photos in Mycroft's hand. 'A boy and a girl… twins.' He looks up at Mycroft standing and staring into the fire. 'Tell me.' He demands.

'When you were about six months old Mummy and Father had a massive argument. The result of which was divorce with the agreement of each parent was taking two children each. Father took the twins after a little discussion in which the three of us, myself, Irene and Jim, decided that Rene and Jimmy should stay together and you Sherlock would stay with me. Really, I was the one who decided that bit. Jim decided that he and Irene would go with Father. Mummy decreed that I should never tell you about them, but you remembered and it broke my heart every time I had to lie to you about them. The cakes Mummy makes every August are in remembrance of her lost children.'

'What happened to them?'

'Two years later father died having told them you, me and Mummy were dead.' Mycroft sits heavily in his chair. 'They went into care and were formally adopted on their thirteenth birthday to their respective guardians. Do you remember when you called me asking who that woman was?' Sherlock nods. 'That was me bumping into and talking to Irene. You went to Karachi to save her but you weren't quite sure why.' Sherlock nods again. 'You went because like any brother you wanted to protect your sister.'

'I want to meet them properly.' Mycroft smiles warmly at Sherlock.

'I want you to meet them properly, they want to meet you properly.'

_Three months later, Berne Switzerland_

Sherlock and Mycroft enter the lobby of a large hotel. Mycroft heads to the desk and Sherlock wonders over to the seating area. As Mycroft wait to be seen by the receptionists, he hears a shout from the main entrance. 'Mykey!' Mycroft turns in the direction of the shout. His eyes sparkle.

'Rene!' He strides over to her and the two of them embrace tightly. Sherlock watches from afar. Mycroft pulls back. 'Where's Jimmy?'

'Suite 702. We got here last week.' Mycroft takes her hand and leads her over to Sherlock.

'Come on Lock.' Sherlock follows the two of them into the lift and up to the seventh floor. Irene leads them out of the lift. Further along the corridor a door opens and Jim steps out. 'Jim Jimmy Jim.' Jim grins, his eyes sparkling with excitement.

'Mykey, my big brother.' Mycroft and Jim embrace. 'Rene.'

'Let's go inside and talk.' Jim leads them into the room. Sherlock enters last and nervously. Jim smiles warmly at him.

'Please Sherlock sit down.' Jim looks at him. Sherlock sits down on the sofa and Irene scoots over to him.

'Relax. We aren't going to hurt you.'

'Relax Lockie.' Jim remains standing.

'First things first Sherlock, I'm sorry. I know it's not enough but I am sorry to have put you through all that doubt and pain.' Mycroft watches Sherlock's face carefully.

'I know.' Sherlock whispers. He tentatively rises and looks at Jim. Jim opens his arms and Sherlock steps into them. Jim embraces his little brother for the first time in twenty years. Irene stands and takes both of the embracing brothers in her arms. She shots a significant look at Mycroft who also rises and takes all three of his siblings in his arms.

'Lockie, meet Rene and Jimmy; your missing siblings.' Mycroft says softly. The four of them separate and retakes their seats.

'Mummy should be here.' Sherlock remarks. Mycroft smirks. 'What?' A knock sounds at the door. Rene stands and opens the door.

'MUMMY!' She hugs her mother. Jim jumps over the back of his chair and lunches himself at his mother and sister. Mycroft and Sherlock look at each other smiling and then they turn to their mother and siblings.


End file.
